The Staircase
by redcharcoal
Summary: Regina could still smell her cologne and feel the cheap pleather pressing into her back. The brunette sucked in a breath. She was still lying on the floor at the staircase's base and she stared back up at it. Everything was different now. Changed. She felt broken by what had just happened, appalled and enraged, dirty. WARNING: NC17 for non-consensual sex. Dark. (But gets lighter.)
1. Chapter 1

**THE STAIRCASE  
**

**By RED CHARCOAL  
**

**CHAPTER ONE: IT WAS ME  
**

**Warnings: **Non-consensual sex. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

Regina Mills had always rather admired her mansion's staircase. Sleek and polished, it curled beyond the entrance up to her rooms, not unlike the unfurled tongue of a dragon. And having Maleficent as a friend, she knew all about that. A memory flashed of the hard wood beneath her knees and her breasts impacting against them. She gasped and waited for the flashback to recede. She could still smell her cologne, and feel the cheap pleather pressing into her back.

The brunette sucked in a breath. She was still lying on the floor at the staircase's base and she stared back up at it. Everything was different now. Changed. She felt broken by what had just happened, appalled and enraged, dirty.

Trembling fingers scrabbled at the top half of her suit, trying to pull together the scraps of material on her blue/gray blouse. The same shirt the blonde had worn once before cockily returning it.

That had been then. When they'd had some sort of… _something ... _between them. That was now gone, ripped from her like her once beloved shirt.

Emma Swan had touched her in ways she had allowed no one to in her life. And she had done it without permission. Right there - on the stairs. Regina squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears gathered in the corners not to spill and tried to pull her skirt back down, only too conscious of the fact her lacy red underwear was now shredded and lay five feet away by the banister.

Fuck Emma Swan, her mind growled as she tried to sit up on her bruised and complaining knees. Her stockings were laddered and a mess.

She tried to focus on her white-hot anger. It didn't help. The tears spilled anyway.

* * *

ACROSS TOWN

Emma Swan lifted her cell phone with shaky hands, swallowing anxiously. The number rang three times before answering.

"It's me," she said hoarsely. She swallowed again, her throat dry. "I need you to do me a favor. I need you to lock someone up."

"What? Who? Why can't you?" the breathy voice asked.

"Ruby," Emma sighed heavily. "You need… it's _me_. I need you to lock ME up. I have done … something. Very bad."

"You?! Come on Emma, what on earth could _you _ever do? What are you charging yourself with anyway?"

Emma clenched her eyes tightly. Fuck this. Fuck all of this. It wasn't supposed to have happened like … _that_.

"Emma?"

"Assault," the blonde said finally - her voice a thin husk. She paused. "Sexual assault."

"SHIT! Who did you… I mean. HELL! Who was it Emma?"

"I… there was a mistake. I…"

"Emma - tell me. And they might need help, so - spit it out."

"Mayor Mills."

There was a long silence.

"I hurt Mayor Mills." She said it in defeat. She felt nauseous. She swallowed with difficulty trying to keep down the bile.

"Oh Emma," Ruby said in an anguished gasp.

"Yeah." The blonde couldn't think of anything else to say. She had done a terrible thing. There had been an awful mistake, someone had set her up - but still. No excuse. She should have realised. She should have known. As if the mayor felt squat for her.

"So I'll be at the station in a minute. Meet me there and lock me up."

She clicked the phone off. And without warning her stomach's contents rose and she threw up at the side of the road.


	2. Chapter 2

**THE STAIRCASE  
**

**By RED CHARCOAL  
**

**CHAPTER TWO: HOUSE CALL  
**

**Warnings: **Non-consensual sex. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

Dr Archie Hopper stood at the door of Mayor Mills' house. He twisted his hands nervously, wondering what to say. The moment he had received the call from Ruby that his services were needed … and why… he had jumped into action. But the mayor was a hard woman to help. And he didn't know how she would react at his arrival. He had a phone in his pocket ready to call for medical help if it came to that. He really hoped it wouldn't.

"Mayor Mills?" he called out, rapping. "Mayor?"

The door slid ajar at his knuckles' force and he peered inside. He saw a crumpled figure by the stairs and his eyes flew wide.

"Oh God," he whispered, forgetting all semblance of politeness as he rushed forward. "Do you need medical attention?"

Regina Mills sat up and glowered at the rushing figure. "What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, hands flying to the front of her ruined blouse to cover herself.

"I-I…" Dr Hopper skidded to a halt and tried to work out a nice way to phrase the unthinkable. His brain failed him. For good reason. He dropped to his knees and sat within arm's reach of the mayor, trying not to startle her. "I had a phone call from Ruby."

"Ruby?! Why her? How… does everyone know?" the mayor's brow furrowed in anger and the doctor had to force himself not to recoil.

"The sheriff told her."

At the sound of the blonde woman's name Regina flinched and she hissed: "Was she bragging? How she brought me to my knees - literally?"

"No!" Dr Hopper exclaimed in horror. "She turned herself in - she asked Ruby to arrest her for … assault. _Sexual _assault." His eyes flickered over the brunette's body sympathetically, drawing a narrowed-eyed glare from the woman on the floor beside him.

"Spare me your pity," she said. She lifted a trembling hand to her hair and reflexively tried to pat it straight. "Listen to me - you will tell _no one_. You will tell Ruby to tell _no one_. And you will get_ that woman_ to let herself out of jail. I will not have people asking questions as to why she is in there. And then you will _leave me alone_. Have you got that?"

"B-but Regina, I mean Madame Mayor - are you hurt? I could send Doctor Whale and …"

"You will do no such thing. I don't want that sleazy creature's hands anywhere near me right now." She shuddered. "But you can help. Can you take Henry? For a few days. Pick him up from school today? I don't think I would like him here right now…"

"Of course. But wouldn't he prefer to stay with… _Oh_. Never mind."

"Yes," she snapped. "Never mind. _That woman _shall go nowhere near my son. Is that clear?"

"Yes Madame Mayor. May I ask whether… you want to talk?"

Regina rose shakily to her feet. Her bruised knees were now at his eye level. "I do not," she said in a frozen tone. "Do not ask me again."

The doctor rose to his own feet and nodded. "What about Emm… the sheriff? If you don't want to press charges, what do you want to do?"

For the first time since his arrival a dark, bleak expression crossed her face. "I can't think about that now." It was a hoarse twisted whisper.

"It's really very out-of-character behavior," Dr Hopper whispered half to himself. "Did she say anything to indicate why…"

He did not finish the sentence before Regina was right up inside his personal space and gripping his jacket lapels with both hands. "There is NO excuse for _rape_, doctor. I wouldn't try looking for one. What she did was despicable. And I will make sure she knows it. Later." Her lips thinned into a line. "Now. Leave."

Dr Hopper did not need to be told twice. As he reached the door he turned to offer his assistance at any time, but she had already left the room. He heard the clink of glass. Apple cider tumbler most likely, he thought. He closed the mansion's door and left.


	3. Chapter 3

**THE STAIRCASE  
**

**By RED CHARCOAL  
**

**CHAPTER THREE: NUMB  
**

**Warnings: **Non-consensual sex. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

The long shower hadn't helped. Regina had leaned against the glass walls and felt the piping hot water roll off her body. She had looked down at herself, unsurprised to see no damage, beyond the knees. Even the bruises there were fading. She corrected herself - no _physical _damage. She knew the assault had lasted a fraction of time - until she had shouted no with all the force and fiber within her being and Emma had suddenly scampered off her like a startled animal.

The look on her face would have been almost comical if Regina hadn't felt so violated.

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to block it out but, the scene began again as though on a loop. It was all she had seen since it happened.

She had answered the knock at the door. Had given Swan her usual disdainful, mocking flick of her eyes before telling her Henry was still at school.

Swan had ignored that and walked forward, inside her personal space and said: "I'm not here for him, am I?"

And then she had held up her cellphone as though it was significant in some way.

Regina had stared at it uncomprehendingly and suddenly the blonde was on her, pushing lips against hers, breathlessly gasping against her.

"What are you doing?" she'd tried to say, pulling away, even though it was patently obvious what was on the woman's mind.

Emma had simply grinned, and backed her further inside her home, slamming the door shut with her foot.

"You said you might protest," the blonde added mystifyingly, then kissed her again, more forcefully.

"What the hell?!" she'd tried again, and then felt fingers ripping at her blouse, buttons sailing off, as lips bit on hers.

Her eyes had gone wide and she tore her lips off Swan's. Before she could speak she heard an appreciative mumble. "I knew you were beautiful but you're more amazing than I imagined."

Her eyebrows had shot up as hands kneaded her breasts. Swan had imagined her? _Like this?_

"Miss Swan, I don't know what you think you're doing…" she began, horrified when her voice sounded husky not biting, and gasped as hands suddenly dropped to her skirt and began fumbling for the zip at the back.

"You're really good at these protests," the blonde replied conversationally, "Shoulda guessed role play would be your thing."

Regina had twisted out of her grasp and shot away towards the stairs, confused and angry now.

This made no sense. Swan and her were enemies. Sometimes they looked at each other like … she hesitated … like they weren't … but that was all there was to it. And she certainly never wanted to _fuck _her. She was halfway up the stairs when a surprisingly agile sheriff caught her in a tackle, bringing her down with crunching force.

Her knees impacted hard against the woodwork and then she felt her breasts similarly lodge a protest as she smelt the woman's cologne and cheap pleatherwear press into her.

A hand was between her legs now, clawing up her thighs, pulling at her stockings, digging holes in them and then pulling at her panties. There was a sick rending noise and suddenly no more red lace.

Her skirt was rucked up hard and she felt air on her newly bared ass and whimpered in dismay.

Regina groaned in horror, leaning against the shower's glass. She had been so off-balance she had actually whimpered. Like some weak fool. Swan had misinterpreted it as a sign of encouragement and had pinned her down, one hand on her back, and the other running warm fingers gently through her folds, ignoring Regina's wiggling and shocked growls. In fact the blonde seemed to be enjoying her protesting noises.

She had frozen when she felt a tongue replace the fingers and heard lapping noises. All blood drained from her face as she felt the unmistakable sensation of another woman licking her … _down there_. She stared at the wooden stairs just beneath her nose as she tried to process the impossible. This was actually happening to her. It was real. Her breath came in shaky gasps and her heart was pounding.

And then she screamed. She thrashed furiously. And she shouted a ferocious "NO" at the top of her lungs. The lapping stopped at once. The weight lifted off her instantly and she turned to glare at the now slack-jawed sheriff through appalled, reddening eyes.

The green eyes that met hers were stunned, shocked. Her mouth, still with a smear of wetness on her chin, worked silently. She gazed at her as if helpless. A small voice said: "I … Regina… I-isn't this what you wanted? You said… in your message you said…" She fumbled in her pocket and held up that stupid phone again.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" Regina had roared, summoning every ounce of power she felt left in her reserves. Emma had stood stock still for a moment as if unsure what to do, as if the power of the words and their meaning finally filtered into her dim brain. An arm lifted slowly towards her as if wanting to help her up, but then she let it drop. Her face was white as a sheet, and Regina knew remorse when she saw it. But she didn't care.

"Don't make me ask you again," she snarled and then turned away so she wouldn't have to look at her.

Emma's head dropped and she turned and sprinted, pulling at the door behind her but not quite closing it in her haste to flee.

A roaring noise invaded Regina's brain once she knew she was alone and she realised it was the sound of the rushing of blood in her ears. She edged her way down the stairs, knees hurting, but when she reached the bottom she stopped and simply folded her weight under herself, staring back up at them, unable to quite believe what had happened. She curled herself into the fetal position and tried not to think at all.

Regina switched off the shower. She felt so numb. She would go to bed, she would rest, and then tomorrow ... Her jaw firmed and the fury arose anew. _Tomorrow she would deal with Swan._


	4. Chapter 4

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By RED CHARCOAL**

******Warnings: **Non-consensual sex references. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

**CHAPTER FOUR: COMING TO TERMS**

"Stupid, fucking stupid, stupid, goddammit, shit.'' Emma swore furiously as she threw clothing into an olive green dufflebag she had pulled out from under her bed. She had never felt more guilty, humiliated, appalled and ashamed. If she could think of any more ways to berate herself she would, she mused grimly, as she tossed her clothes into the bag. It did not take long.

She had not slept a wink the previous night, the agonizing memories of what she had done, how she had done it, and revisiting all the moments in time her higher brain should have kicked in and realised the awful mistake she'd made.

What had she been thinking? The text was one thing but to just assume the invitation had been true because it came from Regina's cell phone number?

Shit, she herself had ghosted cellphones more than once in her time to flush out a perp. What the hell had she been thinking? Or not.

She knew exactly what she'd been thinking. That Regina Mills had been pining longingly for her the way Emma had been for the mayor.

A flush turned her cheeks deep red and she glanced around. She had emptied her room in record time. She didn't have much crap to start with, though.

She lugged the bag downstairs and bit her lip as she glanced at the table. Maybe she should leave Mary Margaret a note ... explaining.

Although what exactly? Ruby's message, via Archie, had been very specific. Tell no one. And the least she could do now was abide by the wishes of the woman she had hurt most.

A key sounded in the door lock and she turned, already swallowing her dismay. Great. Now she'd have to explain to her roommate why she was caught in the act doing a flit. Without actually explaining.

The school teacher's face filled the frame, her expression going from pleasant to perplexed as her eyes slid from Emma to the bag by the floor and then back up to what the sheriff knew was a fucking huge guilty expression.

"Em?'' she asked cautiously, dropping her keys on the kitchen counter. "Going somewhere?''

"Uhm, yeah,'' Emma said, shifting anxiously from foot to foot.

"Where?'' The eyes flicked back down to the bag, gauging how full it was. She frowned. "And for how long?''

"Dunno,'' Emma shrugged, looking at her boots. "But I am never coming back.''

Mary Margaret's entire face changed expression and in three strides she was inside the sheriff's personal space. "Why?'' she demanded, eyes narrowing. "What about Henry? And me? Were you even going to tell us?''

"I was thinking of leaving a note,'' Emma admitted, reddening even more. "And I don't want to leave, but you know...'' she faded out.

"I don't know,'' the teacher snapped, "That's why I am asking you. What are you doing this for?''

"I did something, and it affects Regina,'' Emma said in an ashamed whisper. "And the only way I can think to make it up to her - though it's not even close to doing that - is to give her what she's always wanted.''

Mary Margaret tilted her head. "What in heaven's name did you do?'' she said watching the blonde closely.

Emma stared at her boots mournfully. To her embarrassment she felt tears welling up and wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve. "Please don't ask me. It was bad. An awful mistake. Can we leave it at that?'' She sounded mournful, pleading. She knew that.

There was silence and Emma slid her eyes up, seeing her roommate processing that. Finally the teacher spoke softly.

"Would I be right in thinking this has something to do with that enormous secret crush you've had on the mayor these past few months?''

Emma gasped and stared. How the hell did she know that? She didn't have to ask because Mary Margaret merely nodded and continued: "You don't think I am blind and stupid do you?''

"Please don't,'' Emma said softly. "Really, I mean it. Regina ... I ... shit. I screwed up so bad, and I owe her the biggest fucking apology. And she won't want to see me, won't want to hear me out - can't blame her either, so...''

Mary Margaret shook her head in dismay. "So that's it? Rather than even trying to make amends, you're just going to bolt?''

"Look, you don't understand...''

"Don't I?'' the brunette shook her head angrily. "I thought we were past this, that you'd grown. But you have one speed hump and you have your foot outside the door ready to run.''

Emma sniffed miserably. She couldn't explain it. And even if she did, she doubted Mary Margaret would want anything further to do with her.

Suddenly the door banged wide open and both women jumped and turned.

Regina Mills stood in the doorway, fury radiating off her. She was wearing black pants and a black turtleneck and was almost crackling with rage. Emma quailed at the sight of her.

"Mayor Mills,'' the teacher exclaimed, "You scared me. Would you like to co...''

Regina stalked past the smaller woman ignoring her, coal black eyes fixed on Emma. Before either woman could react, Regina cocked a fist and slammed it into Emma's right cheekbone. Pivoting her hand the other way, she then backhanded her across the mouth until blood arced from her lower lip.

The impact of the two blows slammed the sheriff against the wall.

"Regina!'' Mary Margaret screamed, running behind the glowering older woman, trying to reach for her arm: "Stop it!''

The mayor shrugged her off and leaned over the broken form on the floor. "No,'' she said with a voice as cold as an Arctic winter. "She deserves it. And worse.''

Emma looked up helplessly and couldn't disagree. She slid her eyes over to her roommate. "I think maybe you should give us a little time alone? The mayor and I have some things to discuss.''

"Are you nuts, Em?'' she replied incredulously. She eyed the vein pounding from the mayor's forehead and the cold mask she wore. "The mayor looks ready to kill you,'' she hissed.

Emma sagged. "I know,'' she agreed. "But please?''

Mary Margaret shook her head and turned to Regina. "Leave her in one piece at least,'' she told her in irritation. "And if I don't hear from her in 30 minutes, I will be back with reinforcements. OK? And Em? I will call you soon.''

The blonde nodded mutely, unable to take her eyes off the enraged figure glaring down at her.

She heard the jangle of house keys and the door clicking shut.

"Regina, I am so sorry,'' Emma began imploringly.

"YOU do not get to talk. And you do not get to call me by anything other than my title.'' She leaned forward. "Have you got that, dear?''

Emma swallowed. "It was a mistake. I got this text from you and...'' she scrabbled in her pocket for her phone.

Regina, however, had turned, as brown eyes spied the bulging dufflebag in the corner of the room.

"Leaving so soon?'' she purred dangerously. "But, dear, you only just got here. Barely enough time to see the sights, snatch my son and rape the maidens.''

Emma shuddered. "I-I couldn't think of any other way to make things right. So I am giving you what you want...''

"There are two things wrong with that sentence, Miss Swan'' the brunette snarled leaning forward, breath hot against Emma's bruised and swelling cheek. "One, you can't make what you did to me 'right'.'' Emma saw the slight swallow as she said it and looked away.

Regina grabbed her jaw and yanked it back forcing her to look at her. "And, two, just like yesterday, if you want to know what I want you should probably ask ME first.''

With that she lifted her hand and slapped her again. The noise seemed impossibly loud in the still room. It stung, hard, and tears welled up. Emma screwed up her eyes to force them back.

"I know,'' she said quietly. "I am sorry. I got this text...'' she held up her phone again with shaking hands and willed Regina to look at it this time.

The brunette glared at her for a moment and then finally snatched it from her. She read in silence and then gripped the phone with white knuckles and threw it ferociously against the wall. It bounced although, somewhat remarkably, Emma thought, did not shatter.

"Why on Earth do you think I would EVER want YOU to touch me like that?'' the mayor asked in a mocking tone. "Why would I ever send such filth to a pitiful excuse of a person as you, inviting you to do that to me?''

Emma winced. She had her there. That was when all her alarms should have gone off.

"I know,'' the blonde whispered. "I realize now I should have known all along.''

"Yes you should have,'' Regina hissed. She dropped down to sit on her haunches and eyed the blonde closely, a nasty look spreading along her face. If Emma hadn't also caught the pain in the brown eyes watching her, she would have felt the next words with acute pain. Even so, they still hurt like hell.

"You wanted it to be real so badly, didn't you dear,'' she said, running fingernails hard down her cheek, digging in painfully. "You wanted me to want you and desire you. You probably spent weeks picturing me touching you. Picturing me naked. Didn't you? Dying for me? And then some sick person sends you that - and you probably almost undid yourself on the spot. Didn't you?''

Emma shut her eyes. All true.

"Well you truly are pathetic. And the truth is, as you now know, the only way you could really get me was to force me. Miss Swan, so there is no mistake, listen closely. You. Disgust. Me.''

Emma's eyes snapped open and she felt caught in brown. She knew she was pathetic. She couldn't deny the charges. She wouldn't deny them.

"Yes,'' the blonde finally said. "I believed the message because I wanted to. I was dumb not to have questioned it. Stupid not to have read your body language.'' She ignored the appalled snort of derision and plowed on. "But I never wanted to hurt you. Never wanted to ... touch you without permission. I thought I had that. Obviously I was wrong. So all I can do is walk away. Give you back everything. You get Henry. You get Storybrooke all to yourself again. Everything. I am really sorry.''

Regina rose from her haunches and walked to the window, staring out.

"Except, I don't get everything, do I?'' she said absently.

Emma blinked up at her.

"I don't get to erase the memories of your hands ... your tongue for fuck's sake ... on my body. In me. You touching me in ways I did not consent to. And I do not get what I particularly want right now.''

She turned and stared at Emma, as if driving a laser drill right through her. "I don't get to punish you the way I see fit.''

Emma stared at her, open-mouthed. "You want me to stay? So you can, what, wreak vengeance on me?'' She asked doubtfully, not entirely sure she'd heard right.

Regina gave an enigmatic, nasty smirk. "Yes, dear. And when you have properly debased yourself to my satisfaction, only then can you leave town.''

"What about Henry?'' Emma asked, voice cracking.

The rage was back, streaking across Regina's face.

"I just mean,'' Emma said hastily, "what will you tell him, when I can't see him anymore?''

"None of your concern, Miss Swan.'' She folded her arms and glared.

Emma thought about that. Well it was one of the more creative punishment procedures she'd ever come across. It probably beat jail. But not by much.

"OK,'' she finally said. "I'll do whatever you want.''

"Good,'' Regina snarled. "For this week you can start by staying the hell out of my way. If I so much as see your car, I will make sure Sidney finds some new dark secret of yours to print and humiliate you publicly with - and the truth will be optional.''

Emma sighed. "No threats are needed,'' she said. "I really do want to show you I am sorry.''

"Of course you do, dear,'' Regina sneered. "Want to wipe away that guilty little conscience. But it won't wipe away your complete mental deficiencies will it?''

Emma said nothing. She probably would feel dumb for the rest of her life. Regina took that as her cue to head for the door.

"You are lucky you're not a man,'' she hissed under her breath, flicking dark eyes back. Emma's eyebrows lifted in question.

"_I would have cut it off_.'' the brunette spat. She said it so coldly Emma had no doubts at all that she was telling the truth.

The door slammed.

Emma exhaled shakily and stared at the wooden frame. She rose and dragged her bag back upstairs, just as her battered phone began to ring.


	5. Chapter 5

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By RED CHARCOAL**

******Warnings: **Non-consensual sex references. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

**CHAPTER FIVE: YDM  
**

* * *

So far Emma had found herself on the wrong end of a fortnight's worth of double shifts, as the mayor's budget suddenly found it no longer stretched to a deputy in the Sheriff's department.

Telling Ruby she could no longer work there had been hard. Worse was the all-too-knowing look the waitress gave her as she mournfully packed up her meager office possessions.

"Sorry, Ruby,'' Emma said helplessly. "I know it sucks.''

The other woman had merely sighed and asked: "How are you going to do all this on your own? You'll be on your knees in exhaustion in only a few weeks.''

"I think that's the point, don't you?'' Emma murmured softly, and turned away so she wouldn't have to see the waitress's expression. Again.

She had seen that look for days, a mix of pity and something else, something indefinable. Not quite judging her, but a certain knowingness that said Ruby would not have made the same mistake as Emma. The sheriff hated that look.

Emma had tried to explain the misunderstanding to her deputy initially but had stopped midway through the explanation. Saying it out loud, it was so clear she had been insane to think she had the green light from Regina. Not once had the mayor offered even the faintest sign of encouragement, but Emma had been so fixated on the thrill her feelings were returned and that Regina wanted ... her ... that she had not stopped to question anything. Not even the suggestion that the mayor would enjoy playing hard to get. _God, she had been such a fool._

Even without the full story, Ruby had simply looked at her with THAT expression. She was a lot smarter than anyone gave her credit for.

And so the blonde found herself working non-stop - pausing only for food and sleep and a grumbled hello to her roommate who would frown at her but say nothing. For that, Emma was grateful.

Her crushing workload also meant that when Henry occasionally tried to stop by, she could truthfully tell him to go home, as she was too busy to see him. His shoulders would droop and his face would search hers for signs of a lie, eyes flicking to the enormous - and growing - paperwork pile before finally nodding and shuffling out. Disappointed.

Emma had made some abortive attempts to find the original sender of the message - but quickly came to a dead end and realized she would only succeed with Regina's phone. However a written request to inspect it to find answers was met with silence. Emma decided not to push it.

Wearing Emma to the bone with a punishing schedule was definitely not nearly enough for Regina Mills.

Just that morning, the blonde's computer had beeped accusingly and she'd glanced up to see an email marked "From The Office of The Mayor of Storybrooke".

It was her first contact since their confrontation - the double-shift order having come through Sidney.

With shaking hands, Emma clicked the mouse and watched as the screen cleared and the email opened. She scanned it quickly and saw it was a work request. Old farmer Nate had apparently slipped and hurt his back and had contacted the mayor's office seeking assistance with his livestock.

She read down further and her eyes bulged out. She was being ordered to assist in cleaning the farmer's pig pen of excrement. Regina, _literally_, wanted her to shovel shit.

She fired off an email querying how shit shoveling was part of the sheriff's office.

"Is this some sort of joke? Or a mistake?'' she had inquired hopefully.

The response was immediate.

_"Sheriff Swan, NOW you have decided to question the contents of communiques allegedly sent by me? A shame you lacked the acumen to have done this one message earlier._

_To save you any further doubts as to the veracity of my future emails and text messages, I will henceforth sign them all with the following verification initials: YDM. It is, after all, a true reflection of my feelings for you._

_Now get over to the farmer's yard and help out my constituent at once. RM.''_

Emma blinked. _YDM_? _What the hell was that?_

She thought back to their awful last meeting and replayed everything Regina had said to her. Emma froze as the words formed.

She felt the blood drain from her face as she realized exactly what the initials stood for. The blonde viciously punched the off button on the computer, grabbed her badge, a thick coat and some rubber boots and headed for her patrol car.

As if the gods were laughing at her, the heavens opened up and rain began stream down the street, splashing off the pavement and coursing down her face.

_Just great_, Emma decided, opening the car door, too weary to wipe away the wetness.

She slid into the patrol vehicle and turned up the heater. Her teeth had already begun to chatter. She could feel tears try to leak down her face once more, and sighed at herself. She was relieved at least the rain had hidden the betraying saltwater from prying eyes.

_YDM_.

_Fuck_.

It tormented her as she turned the cruel letters over in her mind. _You. Disgust. Me._

Emma started the engine and pulled away with a squeal of tires.


	6. Chapter 6

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By RED CHARCOAL**

******Warnings: **Non-consensual sex references. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

**CHAPTER SIX: WHAT ARE FRIENDS FOR?**

* * *

"Emma, we need to talk.''

The blonde shuddered inwardly as she took one look at Mary Margaret's stern gaze and hands on hips. She knew this was really not a conversation she was looking forward to. Although, to be fair, she had been expecting it for three weeks now.

Emma ran her fingers through unkempt hair, and tried to tug down her rumpled tank top that had the just-slept-in-where-I-landed-last-night look to it. Her eyes had dark rings under them. Her blonde tresses looked unhealthy and were veering rapidly towards the follicle stylings of a blind, drunk homeless woman.

"We really don't have to,'' Emma tried, and offered her roommate a tired pout. She moved past her in the kitchen, reaching for the kettle. "Need coffee,'' she said, noting it came out even more caveman than she'd expected.

"Em, I have tried to be patient, give you your space,'' the brunette began. "I didn't even ask why Regina beat you up and you didn't even lift a finger to defend yourself. I, um, am glad to see the bruises have faded,'' she added flicking her eyes to the blonde's face.

Emma grunted in agreement and reached for the coffee tin, spooning two heaped teaspoons into her mug.

"Obviously you two had some sort of ... disagreement. But why are you continuing to let her treat you like this! It's inhuman! And the hours you're working, good grief! And forcing you to muck out Nate's pig pens - while she watched, or so Ruby tells me.

"The mayor was `supervising','' Emma said dryly, and spooned in three heaped teaspoons of sugar. Hell she needed this caffeine hit.

Mary Margaret's eyes flashed in disbelief. "You are joking about this now?''

"Not so much. She seriously told Nate she was there to supervise.''

"OK and what about the incident with the tires?''

Emma groaned. She could still feel that in her shoulders and lower back. "The `fire hazard' you mean,'' she intoned. She poured the boiling water in the mug and stirred it almost violently. The first wafting smells of coffee hit her nose and she groaned in tired delight.

"Emma - a pile of tires on the outskirts of town that has been there for decades is no more a fire hazard than the pile of broken, mold-encrusted bricks she also had you move. How long did that take anyway?''

"Eh, eight or nine hours,'' Emma noted.

"And the rest,'' Mary Margaret growled. "If Dr Whale hadn't arrived to bandage up your hands and tell Regina you could not continue, how long would she have made you stay?''

Emma shrugged and began to sip the brew. Oh yes, this was most definitely hitting the spot.

"And she was there to supervise that, too,'' Mary Margaret snapped. "What mayor has to supervise her sheriff for an entire day moving debris from an abandoned field and putting it on a truck?''

"Well she didn't watch me the entire time. She did stop for lunch,'' Emma noted. "The croissants, apple tarts and coffee looked pretty good.''

The teacher's brows knitted. "And she gave you nothing.''

"A back ache,'' Emma admitted. "There was a stream at the bottom of the field. I helped myself when I needed to wash down or have a drink. Didn't die of thirst.''

"Well what about the town hall meeting then?''

Emma flushed in spite of herself, glad the coffee's warmth hid it. A little.

"Yeah,'' the blonde sighed. "Coulda done without that.''

"She made you sound incompetent and stupid!'' Mary Margaret spat out. "Reading out every failing of the sheriff's office - she virtually blamed you for any and all crime and every lost dog - and using that as an excuse to say that's why they were cutting back on having a deputy. She also suggested recalling you and re-running another election for Sheriff! That is plain nasty, Emma.''

The caffeine was now coursing through her veins and Emma knew she should probably say something to mollify her roommate.

"Look, she's just mad, and she deserves to be.''

"Em, I can't see what you could have possibly done to deserve this.''

"I deserve it all - and worse,'' Emma glared and put down the cup. "And I will take it until she feels justice has been served. And after that ... well, then I think she wants me to leave town.''

The last words were almost whispered.

"Oh Em,'' the brunette sighed. "Just tell me you don't want to do that?''

"No,'' she admitted, "I really don't. But Regina ... Madame Mayor ... sets the rules we play by.''

The teacher frowned at that. "She does, doesn't she? I don't suppose there's anything you could do to make any of this punishment go faster? Or be easier? Or not result in your premature death or permanent incapacitation?''

Emma thought about that. She started to speak but paused again.

"Well ... there is one thing, but ...'' She stopped and took another sip. Finally she shook her head. "It might make things worse.''

"What is it?''

"I need access to Regina's phone. Her cell. It's what started all this - I received a text I thought was from her. I need to find out who it was really from, and how it was done.''

"And proving that will show Regina you were the wronged party?'' Mary Margaret asked eagerly.

"Oh no, I definitely did a lot of shitty wronging in all this,'' Emma scowled. "A lot. But I think it'd be good to have a second target to focus Madame Mayor's wrath on. Namely - the person who set us both up.''

"Leave it with me,'' the brunette said firmly, reaching out and patting her hand. "I think I know a way. How long do you need the phone for?''

"That'll depend what I find, or what I don't find,'' Emma said, watching her roommate closely. "But seriously MM, this could all go massively wrong and she'll be gunning for you next. Teacher redundancies will suddenly be on the cards after Sheriff office cutbacks.''

"I would rather go down trying something, than watch you collapse in a heap in another week or two. This is just wrong, Em. And I am not the only one who is noticing.''

Emma exhaled. "OK, do your thing.'' She grinned at her roomie. "And, hey, thanks.''

"What are friends for?'' the teacher smiled.

Emma felt her cell phone beep and sighed, the warm glow she'd momentarily been feeling evaporating instantly. She knew who it would be. Who it always was. One new text message. She scanned it, with a sense of dread.

"Sheriff Swan, my cleaner has suddenly cancelled on me today, and I require immediate assistance. Dress appropriately. YDM.''

"Appropriately?'' she texted back in confusion.

"A maid's outfit. YDM.''

Emma frowned. "Regina asked me to clean for her and wear a maid's outfit? What the hell is that about?''

Mary Margaret's mouth fell open.

"Why the hell does she want me in a dress?'' Emma muttered to herself. "That's kinda weird.''

"Kinda?'' the teacher said, rolling her eyes heavenwards. "THIS you find weird, but none of the rest bothers you?''

"I didn't say it didn't bother me,'' Emma said softly. "It's just this seems the weirdest request so far.''

"Ruby,'' the brunette said suddenly, snapping her fingers.

"Huh?''

"She wore a French maid's outfit to a party one year. I'm sure she'd loan it to you if you asked her.''

"This is gonna be so fucking embarrassing, isn't it?'' the blonde said in an anguished tone, picturing herself in one of Ruby's dress-up outfits. They tended to display more cleavage and leg than most swimwear models.

Mary Margaret just stared at her knowingly.

"Yeah,'' Emma concluded, agreeing with the unspoken comment. "That _is_ the point, right? My ritual and ongoing humiliation.''

"Right.''

"OK. Well I'll go call Rubes now,'' Emma sighed, her fingers scrolling down her cell phone for the number.

"And I'll arrange to separate Regina from her cell,'' Mary Margaret replied. "I know just the person to help.''


	7. Chapter 7

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By RED CHARCOAL**

******Warnings: **Non-consensual sex references. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

**CHAPTER SEVEN: THE STAIRCASE  
**

* * *

"Oh God,'' Emma said, biting her lip, glaring at the mirror. "Could this possibly be any shorter?''

"Hey it's not _that_ bad,'' Ruby grinned at her friend's reflection. " 'Sides I wore it and I'm even taller than you.''

Emma's eyes flew to Ruby's in the glass. "_Really_?'' she drawled. "That's your best argument?''

"No need to be rude, Em, at least you _have_ a maid's outfit now.''

Emma tugged at the edge of the frilly white and black skirt, willing it to be longer. She squeezed an extra millimeter out and growled in frustration.

"_FUCK_!''

"Hey, Em, relax.'' Ruby draped an arm over her shoulder and looked at her in concern. "It's gonna be OK. The mayor is gonna take one look at you in this and swoon.'' She gave her a cheeky grin.

Emma's head snapped sideways to gape at her.

"Is _that_ what you think this is about? I promise that sexy times, and especially with me, are the last thing on her mind. I think she just sat down and thought - 'What is the thing Miss Swan would hate more than life itself? Frocks, frills and humiliation? Check.' She knocked them all over in one hit. I doubt she even has any cleaning to be done. Have you seen her place? It's like some immaculate six-star hotel.''

Emma knew she was babbling now and she sighed heavily, only to frown as she spotted her plunging cleavage lift and drop spectacularly.

"You'll be fine," Ruby said, eyes drifting to the cleavage expansion fondly. "You've got your coat right? So wear that till you're inside her place. Then you'll only feel embarrassed when you're in front of her, not all of Storybrooke's motorists, too.''

"Yeah,'' Emma nodded a little too fervently and reached for the long garment. "OK.''

"And try and relax. Seriously - what's the worst that could happen?''

Emma stared at her reflection mournfully before finally slipping on the coat. "I really wish you hadn't said that,'' she muttered, as Ruby grinned back unrepentantly.

. . . .

* * *

Emma wiped her hands nervously down the coat as she shifted from foot to foot in front of the mayor's door. It would be the first time they would speak directly since the incident. Even when she had been "supervising'' Emma, she had done so from the confines of her tinted-windowed Mercedes. Watching, invisible to Emma, but watching nonetheless.

This was also the first time Emma had been back in her house ... _since_...

She swallowed anxiously and lifted her hand to knock. Before it made contact the door opened.

Regina Mills stood there, black pants, black turtleneck. Black expression.

Emma frowned. The last time she had seen her she had been wearing this exact outfit. She searched her memory. And when Regina had stepped out of the car to have lunch when Emma had been moving tires, she had been wearing the same, too. OK, different colour - red-wine - but the same.

Her mind jumped forward to the council meeting. Same again.

_What the hell was going on? Was the mayor having some sort of reverse wardrobe malfunction?_

The mayor had been speaking and Emma forced her brain cells to work and she tried to focus.

"...off the coat and get started. I expect you to polish and clean my stairs.''

"Your stairs?'' Emma repeated stupidly, as her hands fumbled for the coats buttons.

"Yes, Miss Swan do you have a problem with that? For some reason I seem to have a reluctance to be on my hands and knees on them at the moment. Can you think of any possible reason why that might be?''

Emma flushed and bit her lip. The pain and fury in the mayor's tone was palpable. _Shit. OK. Point made._ She chose not to comment on the fact the mayor wouldn't be on her hands and knees doing this anyway if she had a regular cleaner.

Suddenly she knew instantly that one so private as Regina Mills would never have a cleaner in the first place. So that meant getting her here - on these stairs - by claiming the cleaner had cancelled was just a pretext.

_Of course it was_, she sighed, rolling her eyes. _Let the torture begin._

She handed Regina her coat.

The brunette, however, did not take it as she was busily staring at the newly unveiled French maid outfit. Her eyes flicked from the fruffled plunging cleavage, past the white apron on the black material, down to the ultra-short black skirt, and white stockings.

Emma flushed deeply. _Oh yeah. That._

"Ruby's wardrobe, I presume?'' she finally offered with a cocked eyebrow.

The blonde nodded mutely.

"I suspected as much,'' she said coolly. She finally took the coat and pointed to a bucket, cloths and cleaning supplies at the foot of the stairs.

"Get to work then,'' Regina said with a low growl. "I want it _gleaming_.'' The mayor turned and headed for her office.

. . . . . .

* * *

_Huh_, Emma thought, crouching by the cleaning supplies. _So supervising isn't on the cards today?_

She felt a draft and glanced down. Shit. This skirt was barely legal and would be no protection when she was halfway up the staircase and scrubbing hard. She just hoped Regina would be busy for a while. Emma might even be able to get it all done and flee before she reappeared.

Emma worked efficiently and hard for a good hour, scrubbing, wiping and then polishing. She had a good rhythm and decided this job, despite crippling her knees a bit, was far better than the tire haulage gig. That was just revolting and painful.

She paused and glanced down. Oh hell. She was _here_, _right here._ The place where a world of wrong had happened and she had caught up to Regina.

She froze and stared, unable to move - one hand still mid-air waiting to land on a stair.

"Reviewing the scene of the crime?'' a harsh voice said close to her ear.

Emma jumped in shock. She hadn't even heard her come in, let alone climb the stairs. She tried to turn only to find a crushing weight over her back as Regina pushed herself against her.

"I was curious, Miss Swan, how you might feel to be trapped the way I had - vulnerable, exposed...'' a hand shifted up her skirt and she felt a cool breeze against her cotton briefs. "And not knowing how it would all end.''

Regina now pushed down hard and pinned Emma beneath her. "Imagine,'' a cold, hard voice hissed in her ear, "If I just ripped away your panties, right now, without your permission." A hand landed on her ass, as though debating whether to do just that.

"Imagine if I just thrust myself inside you. Without your permission." The hand scraped fingernails through the cotton, sliding lower. Then stopping. "Or if I took my tongue and...''

"OK!'' Emma groaned from underneath the deadweight. "I get it. I am sorry. But ENOUGH.''

Regina paused as if considering her next move.

"Please,'' Emma whispered beneath her.

"But of course, my dear,'' Regina shifted off her and stood. "After all, _I_ am no rapist.''

She folded her arms and stared down at the woman on her stairs. Emma flipped over until she was looking up at the mayor. She saw Regina's eyes raking over her again and realised her entire lower half was on display. No mystery left to anyone what panties she was wearing today. And one bra-clad breast was more out than inside her outfit.

She quickly readjusted her clothing as the mayor watched, an emotionless sentinel.

"You're lucky,'' the other woman finally whispered, when Emma had made herself presentable again - at least as much as she was able given Ruby's outfit. "You'll have forgotten this in a day. And it won't change a thing for you. You probably won't even think twice when you stand in front of your wardrobe tomorrow.''

"What?''

Regina's arms were now hugging her ribcage. "Nothing. It doesn't matter. You can leave now.''

Emma slowly rose, wanting to say something, to ask what she meant. To find out why Regina had trouble in front of her wardrobe now. She looked down at herself, feeling vulnerable, with her cleavage and legs on display.

Regina used to wear outfits like this - well not _quite_ like this, but still. Legs and cleavage. That gorgeous straining third button on her button-down shirts.

But now - turtlenecks and tailored pants.

There was no way that was an accident.

_Did the mayor not feel safe in skirts anymore? Had Emma done this to her?_

_Fuck_.

She slowly walked down the stairs, almost stumbling when she reached the bottom one. Her only surprise came when she saw Regina's hand shoot out, as if to steady her, and then retract just as quickly and curling into a white-knuckled fist. Her jaw clamped down hard.

Emma tilted her head to look at her curiously. But Regina merely turned away and strode towards her office. The blonde watched as the door snicked close, and behind it she heard the soft clink of glassware.

The sheriff grabbed her coat, pausing only to glance back at the staircase. Half of it was gleaming with polish. The other half looked dull, mocking her.

She shook her head sorrowfully. As she shut the door quietly behind her, she knew she would be glad if she never saw that staircase again.


	8. Chapter 8

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By RED CHARCOAL**

******Warnings: **Non-consensual sex references. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

**CHAPTER EIGHT: SISYPHUS**

* * *

"OK, do I wanna know how you guys got this?'' Emma asked examining the cell phone in her hands without looking up. Mary Margaret was with her in her VW parked outside the mayor's house, where Henry had just run from, clutching the device. He leaned in the driver's window. He and Mary Margaret wore matching smug expressions. Honestly they almost looked related.

"And are you sure she won't be back soon?''

Mary Margaret shook her head earnestly and said, "Let's just say David owed me a favour.''

"David?'' Emma asked, quickly unlocking the cell. Her fingers quickly hunted through the sent messages. "Why on earth would Regina want to meet David?''

"Not David,'' she sighed. "I got him to convince Kathryn to go for a coffee with her. She might hate me but she has a good heart.''

Emma paused and looked up. "What's that supposed to mean?''

"I told you I wasn't the only one to notice ... um... how you're looking these days,'' Mary Margaret said, eyes flicking worriedly to Henry.

He merely nodded in agreement. "It's true Emma," he said apologetically. "You really look like crap. Is Mom really doing this to you?''

Emma sighed. "It's complicated, kid. And she does have her reasons. Good reasons. So how'd you managed to get the phone without her noticing?''

Henry grinned. "I caused a flood right when she was about to leave. In the kitchen. She was busy turning off the taps and stuff and I snuck it out of her handbag. By the time she finished she looked at the clock and just grabbed her bag and left.''

He looked awfully pleased with himself. Emma, though, still felt guilty. It was like a low-level hum in her life these days.

"_Anything_?'' Mary Margaret asked as a silence fell on the car.

Emma paused, and stared. "Uh... well... yeah, actually.'' She couldn't believe it. She was staring at the text. _THE_ actual text. And it had been sent by Regina. Well, by her phone, to be exact. No one had ghosted anything. She wondered if the mayor even knew it was there. Given her aggravated response to the version she'd shown her, she'd wager no.

She quickly made a note of the date and time and exited the message. She was about to hand the phone back to Henry when her eye fell on a series of other texts before it. As she read, she felt her heart beat harder. She was fairly sure she now knew the culprit.

"Henry, I have what I need. Go put this back near where your mom's bag was so she'll think it fell out in her rush to leave. And thanks for you help, kid.''

She gave a tight smile as his hopeful eyes locked on hers.

"So this will fix everything, right?'' he asked enthusiastically. "Mom will let you see me again?''

"Not sure, kid,'' she said. "But it certainly explains some things. OK, we should get going.''

Henry gave her a wave and headed back into the house.

Emma exhaled hard.

"Don't keep me in suspense, Em. Who did it?'' Mary Margaret asked.

"I don't know for sure,'' Emma said tightly, "But I think there's someone I should pay a visit to.''

"_We_ should pay a visit to,'' the teacher corrected.

"MM, I appreciate your help but I think you should stay out of this now. I don't know how much shit will be flying when this goes down but I'd hate it to hit you, too.''

The brunette opened her mouth to protest but Emma shook her head. "Please,'' she said softly. "Leave it to me.''

. . . . . .

* * *

Regina Mills had no idea what had convinced her to agree to this coffee meeting. She would have considered canceling when she parked her car, but she found she had left her phone at home. She cursed inwardly. She could have sworn she put it in her bag.

She had not been feeling sociable for weeks now. Her every waking moment contained only one thing: rage. She saw Emma Swan everywhere she turned, heard her voice. Felt her presence. And it made her antsy all the time.

But it wasn't even Swan who was starting to unsettle her now. She thought it would feel good to punish her. To watch her slave away for hours hauling tires about. To ruin her reputation at the town hall meeting. To mock her and humiliate her in stupid frocks.

But all it was doing was making her feel sick inside. She couldn't fail to miss the physical condition the blonde was in when she turned up in that hideous maid's outfit. The joy she thought she'd experience at the complete ruination of Swan's dignity had fled the moment she saw up close the dark circles under her eyes, the still bandaged hands. The bruising and nicks along her muscled arms and legs.

_She_ had done that to her. And it shocked her to find she felt no better than she had before.

Something else though had begun creeping into her psyche, like spindly fingers stretching around the edges of her brain, asking to be noticed. She had found the only thing keeping the thoughts at bay were to punish Swan harder. So she did. It was her only hope to shut the thoughts out.

Kathryn was waiting for her, coffee in front of her, wearing a completely neutral expression. It was curious, Regina thought, as the woman had seemed so insistent on this meeting, arguing she was in a desperate state of despair over her crumbling marriage.

The woman across from her, Regina noted as she slid into the booth, seemed neither desperate nor despairing.

"You seem better, Kathryn,'' she said, trying to school the suspicion from her voice.

"Thanks Regina,'' the woman replied with a smile, "And you look...'' she faded out. "Regina, actually you look shocking.''

Regina raised an eyebrow. "Flattery will get you everywhere,'' she said acerbically.

"Oh goodness,'' the blonde said, "I didn't mean to say that out loud. It's just ... when did you last sleep?''

Her hand snaked out and grabbed Regina's wrist, then her eyes flew to it as if noticing the boniness for the first time. Regina retracted her hand swiftly. "I... it's been awhile,'' she admitted.

The hand was back, with a firmer hold this time, and gave her a squeeze.

"Anything you want to talk about?'' she asked with wide sympathetic eyes.

Regina stared back. _It was so tempting._ She'd had no one's counsel in all of this. No one to explain her personal hell to. But she was Regina Mills. Mayor. She did not do unravelling. She did not do weakness. And she most certainly did not do teary confessionals.

Which reminded her...

"I don't think so. Besides, I thought we were here for you? I believe you said you and David were at some sort of crisis point? I really do think that marriage is worth saving.''

She gave an insincere smile and knew it showed. She used to be _so_ much better at this. At least when she was focused she was. That had been a while ago.

"Regina,'' Kathryn sighed, "My marriage will survive a few more weeks or months. I am just not entirely sure _you_ will. Or Emma, at this rate.''

Regina felt the shutters slam down and anger laced her voice. "What do you know of it?'' she snapped. She was so loud that heads snapped around and the diner fell silent.

Kathryn's eyebrow rose in surprise.

"I know nothing beyond watching two people I like very much wasting away before my eyes. You seem to be on edge and suffering sleep deprivation. And every time I turn around Emma Swan looks like she's undergone a new Trial of Hercules. And don't try and tell me these two developments are unrelated. Storybrooke is a small town. I know better.''

Regina folded her arms and glared at the other woman. "The two events _are_ related but that's all I am saying about it. Although you should know this - she deserves it.''

The mayor simply couldn't help the last bit. Damned if she'd allow anyone to think she was brutalising the blonde for some kind of sick kicks.

Kathryn eyed her kindly. "OK, she deserves it,'' she agreed soothingly, and squeezed her hand again. Regina looked down in surprise, having forgotten their fingers were still clasped.

"Tell me though,'' the blonde continued, "How long do you plan to punish her for whatever she did? And I am assuming you are the source of her increasingly bruised and battered appearance.''

Regina clamped her jaw down. She would not admit to bruising or battering anyone. But the first question was a fair one. She had asked herself it often enough.

At her silence Kathryn continued, "You are the only one in town with the power to do this to her, so we all know it's you. And besides, your impassioned little outburst at the council meeting blackening her name told any remaining doubters how you felt about her.''

"She DESERVED it,'' Regina said again through clenched teeth. "You have NO idea what she did to me.'' The brunette's voice caught and for one horrible moment she thought she might be about to become one of _those_ women. The ones who weep and cleave to their BFF's bosom like mewling children.

Kathryn looked at her with a soft expression. "I can see she hurt you very much, Regina. I am just wondering though, at what point you go from seeking justice, to becoming a bully?''

Regina stood up abruptly, banging the silverware and coffee cups as she rose.

"I must leave,'' she said coldly. She bent forward. "You know, Kathryn dear, you have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. And if Emma Swan had done to you what she did to me, you would wish for Sisyphus's boulder to punish her for eternity with.''

She turned to leave.

"Perhaps, Regina,'' Kathryn replied noncommittally. "But have you considered the possibility that the pain is going both ways? The sheriff doesn't exactly look like some care-free recidivist street thug. All I see is sorrow.''

Regina walked away and opened the door to Granny's. She snapped her head back and snarled one word. "_Good_.''

Kathryn picked up her coffee and watched the mayor leave. She sighed as the brunette slammed her car door shut and roared up the road. There went the other woman in Storybrooke who was a picture of sorrow.


	9. Chapter 9

**THE STAIRCASE  
By Red Charcoal**

**********Warnings: **Non-consensual sex references. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

**CHAPTER NINE: UNMASKED**

Regina was having the nightmare again. She was tense and afraid and felt the worst sense of dread.

It always started the same way. Emma Swan pushing her down on the stairs. The crunch of her knees as they felt the pain. But then there would be the smell. Her dream would shift and she would be back _there_. In his bed, smelling honey mead or port or whatever the king had imbibed too much of that made him one part lothario, one part raping thug.

Despite his vast bulk he loved to press her down with his full weight, and trap her under him, watching her squirm with cruel cold delight. Then he would enter her, without permission or preamble. One moment he was on top of her, crushing her, the next she was his possession – little better than a blow-up doll. He would pound away, ignoring her sobs, never stopping until he was done.

When it was over he would roll off, never even bother looking at her again and within moments would be asleep. The snores would be loud, and reverberate around the room. Regina would curl up in the foetal position and tears would slide from her eyes. Silently though – she could not risk waking him for fear of his loins stirring again for round two. She had made that mistake once. Never again.

This time was different though – and she felt his arm snake out even while he slept and grasp her wrist hard. She struggled and cried out, but he held her like a vice and then opened his eyes and roared at her. He began to roll over back on top of her.

She woke up screaming: "LEOPOLD NO! PLEASE STOP…"

"Mom! Mom! It's me! Wake up! You're having a dream! Please Mom."

Henry's fearful voice snapped her out of the horrors of her old world and frightened boyish eyes were gazing helplessly at hers. His small hand was clutching her wrist in a deathgrip.

"H-Henry?" she asked, trying to get her breath back.

He flung his arms around her neck. "Mom," he said squeezing her. "I was so worried."

Regina looked at the tiny arms encircling her and reached up to pat him. It had been a long time since he'd willingly touched her. As her hand made contact with his skin, she realised he was trembling.

"It was just a silly dream," she said with an attempt at a smile.

He pulled back and stared at her. "Mom, I am not a baby. That was _not_ just a silly dream."

He stuck his chin out at pugnaciously, daring her to argue. But she had no energy. She was exhausted. She hadn't slept well in three weeks, and now she was frightening the life out of her son.

"Mom," Henry whispered. "I want you to get help. I want you to go see Dr Hopper."

"Absolutely not!" she said with more force than she intended, then winced inwardly as her son flinched.

She sighed. "Sorry. I haven't been sleeping well."

"I know. Mom, you do this every night. But tonight was scarier than the others. I think your Leopold monster might have got you this time."

Regina shuddered. Hearing that name come out of her son's mouth made it seem even more real.

She shook her head. "I just need to relax some more," she said. "And you could probably use some breakfast?"

"At 3am?" Henry asked softly.

"Oh."

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

"Are you ever gonna forgive Emma?"

The white-hot fury flashed across her face before she could stop it and this time Henry pulled out of her reach in dismay.

She didn't speak, couldn't trust herself to. Her eyes flashed her answer loud and clear though.

"I'll go back to my room," he muttered in disappointment.

Regina watched him moodily slouch off, scuffing his striped pyjama pants along the floor as he went, appalled she was now driving away the one person she desperately wanted to be close to.

She groaned and rubbed her face. She couldn't take much more of this. She would call in sick today. And she would get some more sleep, relax and try and centre herself far better than she had been doing.

. . . . . . . .

* * *

Emma Swan sat in her car outside the culprit's workplace. She pulled out her battered cell phone and scrolled down to the text message that had started this grisly, shitty mess.

She forced herself to read it, over and over again. She needed to know every word and syllable if she were to best this rival.

Her heart began pounding with stress as she read the fateful words:

_Sheriff Swan, I think the time has come for us to drop the façade, don't you? It's time we acted on whatever this is between us. Get over to my place now. I want you to show me how you feel. All of it. Don't hold back anymore. I may pretend to not even understand at first – doesn't that make it all the more delicious? Kiss my protests off my lips, dear. Should I push you away, hold me close. If I run, catch me. Then wherever we fall, in a tangle of limbs, I want you to love me, lick me, take me; it shall be magnificent. Hurry. Regina._

The asshole who sent this was half poet, of that she was sure. But she was not surprised. Once she had worked out the bastard's identity, a lot of things fell into place. She did want to hear it direct from the horse's mouth though.

She slid the phone in her pocket. Fiddled with a few other things to ready herself. Tucked in her shirt, slipped on her jacket and left the car, loudly thumping the door. Show time.

She didn't bother knocking as she reached the door. In fact she virtually kicked it open, announcing her presence to the surprised occupant with the drawled words: "Well, well, someone's been a very bad boy."

. . . . . . . . .

* * *

Dr Hopper knocked tentatively on the mayor's door. He tried not to be nervous. He was on a mission of mercy after all and the call had sounded so desperate.

Regina Mills, dressed in a grey turtleneck and dark pants, opened the door and stared at him for a full beat.

She suddenly exhaled and turned, calling in irritation: "Henry! Get down here now!"

She turned back. "Dr Hopper, I think there's been a misunderstanding. Whatever my son told you, I am fine…"

"Yeah Mom?" Henry's voice sounded behind them and Dr Hopper could see a very nervous young man at his mother's side.

"Care to explain?" the brunette said, inclining her head in the doctor's direction.

"Mom, you need help – please! You have to talk to someone."

"No."

"I am scared for you, Mom!" he tried again.

Her eyebrow rose. "More like scared I won't let you see Miss Swan ever again." She couldn't help the thoroughly filthy way she spat out the sheriff's name. It was second nature to her now.

"That's not it!" he pleaded. "Tell her, Dr Hopper!"

Archie took a step inside and exhaled nervously. "He really is extremely worried about you Madame Mayor. He has been calling me for several days in a row now, but today he insisted was a 'Code Red'. So I think perhaps it might be time you sit down and talk things through."

"I do NOT talk things through with you or anyone," the mayor snapped.

"And that's the problem!" Henry piped up.

Regina glared at him. "Henry, go to your room."

He hesitated.

"NOW!" she bellowed.

The boy looked crestfallen but turned and scampered away.

After he was gone Regina turned back to the doctor.

"Now really, there is no reason for all this fuss," she tried in her most charming tone.

"I think we both know that's a lie," he replied. "Look, if you don't want to do this for you, do it for Henry. He has been worried sick about you. And if we sit down, have a little chat, you can tell him you did that at least and maybe he'll worry less."

He waited while she digested his plea, and he could see the warring emotions flitting across her face.

"What can it hurt?" he added with a rueful smile.

She swallowed harshly. "Oh it can hurt plenty," she muttered. "Fine. But so we're clear - I am doing this for Henry."

He nodded. "Of course."

She sighed and led the way inside.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

* * *

Emma Swan seated herself opposite Sidney Glass and gave him her best glare. He looked flustered, nervous and guilty as all fucking hell.

"So, where to begin," she said conversationally as she cracked her knuckles.

"I have no idea what you're doing here but this is completely outrageous just barging in and…" he sputtered.

Emma rolled her eyes and put her feet up on his desk. "Save it," she said with a dismissive wave. She eyed him coldly, pleased when his flapping mouth snapped shut again. He looked back at her uncertainly, eyes sliding to her boots and back to her face.

"We both know why I am here. So, it seems you're quite the useful little computer expert. I did a little digging and it turns out the mayor uses you to help back up her office files once a week. Every Monday to be exact. Seems she likes the privacy of an 'in-house security expert' I suppose. Someone who won't blab all her … secrets?"

Sidney frowned. "She told you _that_?" he asked sceptically. "I hardly think so."

"Seriously Sidney? Playing the dumb-shit card?" Emma retorted, plopping her feet back to the floor and leaning forward to slap a hand loudly on his desk. "_Think_! How long did you think you'd get away with it before the mayor and I started comparing notes?"

At his unnerved expression, she gave a mirthless smirk. "Oh and before you start lying to me I should point out you're not the only computer expert in town."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said with an effort.

"Let me spell it out for you then. I dug around her computer and found the email I sent Regina a fortnight ago that you deleted before she had a chance to read it," she lied smoothly. "The one requesting I get a look at her phone."

It was just a hunch – but she had never understood why Regina had not agreed to her request. The mayor was like the freaking queen of vengeance – Emma was certain she would want the names of all those who had been involved in this nasty mess.

So the silence from the mayor's office had been deafening – until she realised the mayor had most likely never received her email. Which meant someone with access to her files had been busy on the delete key. And then she'd seen Regina's text messages. It was not hard to piece together after that.

Emma watched Sidney's eyes widen slightly. _She was so close._

"You seriously don't think emptying her recycle bin killed that email cold do you?" she played her hand again. Sidney Glass had the worst guilty face. He was truly the most ill-suited person on the planet for a life of nefarious activities.

"This is absurd – how would I even know her password?" he protested.

Emma smiled broadly. _The easily provable lie gets them every time._

"Didn't you remember the bit where I told you not to lie?" Emma asked. "Are you denying Regina texted you telling you where she left her new password – as she does every Monday when you backup her office computer?" She waited.

"I uh… Well yes she tells me where the password is so I can back up her files. Obviously I need that. And no I didn't use it to delete your email."

"You just told me you _didn't_ know her password."

"No, I asked you _how_ I would know it. I never said I didn't have it."

Emma sat back. _Slippery little shit._

"You also back up her phone contacts too, right? Once a month."

"I…"

Emma lifted an eyebrow, daring him to lie.

"I do," Sidney said through gritted teeth..

"Which is hard to do without her phone present," she continued.

"Obviously," he rolled his eyes. "She leaves her phone for me the first Monday of the month and I do that when I am also doing her PC backup."

"Now we're getting somewhere. So, three Mondays ago, which was the first of Monday of the month, _when_ were you doing this computer and phone backup?"

"I don't remember."

"Let me help you – the text to Regina that said you had finished both backups had a timestamp of 3.58pm."

"You have her text messages?" Sidney squeaked.

"I do. So, 3.58?"

"If that's what it says," he said, shoulders slumping.

"You know I happened to receive a message from Mayor Mills's phone at 3.45pm that day, urging me to go to her house and do some rather racy things with her."

"Well that is between you and her."

"Not if you had her phone at the time it was sent."

"She might have come by and picked it up from me while I was finishing up the backup."

"Well if you were finishing the backup, why did you feel the need to text her, rather than just tell her? And why say you had finished _both_ backups? If she already had her phone back, she'd know you'd already finished that."

"I always text her when I am done – it's a protocol she likes," he evaded.

"You are always so thorough. Attention to detail. I _like_ that," Emma smiled dangerously. "Which reminds me: You know what is impressive about journalists, Sidney?"

He waited, scowling.

"Semi colons."

"What?"

"Well I can barely remember where to put my apostrophes, but wordsmiths like yourself, hell, they can figure out apostrophes and semi colons and the whole bit. It's really something. Regular people – not so fussed with them. I mean, hey, why bother, right?"

"What are you talking about?"

"That racy text message. Best use of semi colons I have ever seen. Which really only narrows my suspects down to you or possibly August – who, by the way, hasn't been seen for two months. And he certainly had no access to the mayor's phone."

"This is all circumstantial."

"You're not denying it."

"I am saying one text message and one semi colon mean nothing."

"How do you know the message only had one semi colon?" she asked.

He didn't reply.

"Well, shall we take it to the mayor to decide?"

"She'll never believe you. It's your word against mine."

"Well, true. Actually I have to confess something. I lied before when I said she and I have been comparing notes. She won't come near me with a barge pole. She has already told me she wants me to leave town once she's finished punishing me."

She watched his slow almost feline smile. _Oh yes, he liked that._

"Do you think that's fair?" the sheriff asked and almost pouted. "Punished _and_ run out of town?"

Sidney smirked. "For rape? I would think you're lucky."

Emma's eyes glittered. "Now who said anything about rape?"

"You said you had a racy text. You went to her."

"And I didn't say what happened next."

"It's obvious," Sidney tried again. "She hates you, for one. And now she wears those unflattering turtlenecks. And you came to work all bruised the next day."

Emma folded her arms.

"I do not understand you at all," she snarled. "Why on earth would you set her up like that? I thought you liked Regina? Why get her attacked?"

"I didn't want her attacked!" he exploded.

Then the silence fell between them. It was the closest thing to a confession and he knew it.

"Then what did you want?" she asked softly. "Because all I see is you indirectly hurting her."

"I didn't want _that_," he said again, shoulders slumping. "I wanted…"

Sidney fell silent. Emma waited.

"You. Gone."

Emma frowned. "And then what? I don't get it – we barely know each other. Unless you were trying to hurt Regina, this makes no sense."

"NO! I would never... Never want that. I didn't think it would go that far. She is a strong and impressive woman. She would've – _should've_ thrown you out and run you out of town the first minute you tried something."

A look of regret crossed his face. "I didn't think there might be any … ah … sustained damage. But I can see by her changes, something else, something _more_ … obviously happened. But I never would hurt her. She is too… I …" He faded out and a sad expression crossed his face.

Emma stared at him and then the penny dropped. "Oh fuck! You love her, too!"

And then they both looked at each other. The blurted admission horrifying Emma but clearly not surprising Sidney.

He smiled coldly. He didn't deny the charge.

Emma glared at him and put her hands on her hips. She sighed in defeat. "All right. How did you know I did?"

He tilted his head and gazed at her with something akin to pity mixed with disgust. "I do have eyes. And sooner or later she would have noticed the way your gazes linger. That you spend most of the time fighting her while staring at her lips. That you watch her rear for whole minutes as she leaves the room."

Emma flushed even as her anger rose.

"So all this – all of it was just to run a romantic rival out of town? It's just your bad luck Regina Mills values vengeance above all else or your plan might have actually worked. But fuck, Sidney, you're so sick."

"Says the woman who raped the woman she loves! Really, Sheriff Swan, don't you know that no means no?" He gave her an oily smile. "And it _will_ still work. When she's done torturing you, you will be gone. And then it will be back to her and me. Everything will be as it should be again."

His smug face. She just wanted to punch it. Instead Emma smiled and rose. "You're kidding yourself. She'll never love you, either," she said. "But thank you. I believe I have everything I came for."

He blinked at her in confusion.

"No one will believe you," he repeated uncertainly, "Regina values me. And unlike you, I haven't attacked her. You said it yourself, she wants nothing more to do with you – there's no way she'll swallow your _theory_."

"Well she might not believe me," Emma agreed pleasantly. "But she might believe Mr Sony." She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a digital recorder. The red recording light was on. Sidney's expression fell and the blood drained from his face.

"Thank you for your time," she added with a cheesy smile.

Emma strode out of the office, hearing a strained gasp behind her. Only once she was back in her car and the tape played back both voices in clear detail did she shakily breathe out. _Time for Regina to know the truth._

* * *

_**Author's Note:** Dear marvellous readers, if you feel so kind as to leave a review, pretty please do NOT name the culprit behind Regina's text message in your review. Do not want to spoil anyone! Thanks.  
_


	10. Chapter 10

**THE STAIRCASE  
By Red Charcoal**

**********Warnings: **Non-consensual sex references. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

* * *

**CHAPTER TEN: HOLD THE FRONT PAGE**

Regina felt drained by the time Dr Hopper left. She had been right – it hurt plenty. He had asked her point blank who the 'Leopold monster' was Henry described and, with uncharacteristic candor, born of 23 days without enough sleep and her jangled nerves hanging by a thread, she had told him. Well as much as she could.

She had told him of the rapes by her then domestic partner, a man so big and brutish and powerful no one could protect her from him. A man who she had successfully kept out of her brain for three decades. Until Emma Swan. And then, like spidery fingers clawing at her brain, the memories had come leaching out again.

Archie Hopper had viewed her with the most godawful expression of pity and then suggested, in a roundabout way, whether it was possible some of the punishment she was meting out to the sheriff was really her way of punishing Leopold.

She had looked at him then with pure disdain. _Did he not fucking get what Swan had done to her?_ So she had told him about that, too. In detail, so there would be no further misunderstandings.

More abject pitying looks followed that set her teeth on edge.

He had then suggested that she was a woman of immense power now; a contrast to the powerless victim she had been when with Leopold, so could she possibly be using every resource at her disposal to right a very old and terrible wrong? On the wrong person?

She had sucked in a particularly outraged hiss at that. _Was Hopper particularly dense?_ She couldn't listen anymore. Wouldn't.

Just as he had been spitting out some sort of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder babble, she had virtually waltzed his tweed-jacketed ass to the door and told him to keep his absurd conclusions to himself and that their session was now _over_.

And then she had walked elegantly back to her pristine white leather sofa, folded her hands in her lap and, to her complete horror and shock, had started to weep.

She had never wept before. She had been denied it at every turn in her past. Appearances had always been forced to come first.

Now, though, she wept. She wept over Leopold and her terrifying misery of a marriage, dear Daniel and her father's pathetic weakness, her mother's cruelty, and, finally, she wept over what had happened with Swan.

_Emma_. She hated she wasted even a single drop of saltwater on her. Yet she felt so betrayed. Swan was a woman she had been starting to trust. A woman she had, although she would never say it out loud to a soul, at times admired. On occasion even felt some sort of _something_ for her. It had been so intangible. She hadn't even gotten close to defining it before the sheriff had ripped it all away. All because Swan was too stupid not to _think_, not to _pause_ for even _half a second_ to really look into Regina's eyes and see the fear there. If she had, she would have known to stop it all before it started. Before the rest of Regina's fragile walls could be ripped down by that thoughtless moment in time. Leaving her forced to remember. Forced to confront _him_ again.

It had taken years to unsee that raping brute's face.

And now...

So Regina Mills wept.

And even when Henry crept downstairs and asked her in a scared small voice if she was OK, she had simply gathered him up in her arms, not speaking, not capable of it, and hugged him as though her life depended on it, while she cried on his shoulder.

And, through some miracle, the child who hated her and who told her of her evilness day in, day out, had simply held her, patting her back kindly, and whispering to her it would be "all right". Just as she done for him countless times over the years with every bump and scrape.

Finally, face puffy, eyes red, she had pulled away, beyond humiliated and muttering at what a mess she must look, Henry had simply cupped her cheek and announced she looked beautiful. Then he had shocked her even more by leaning over and kissing her. He had whispered in her ear so earnestly that he hoped Dr Hopper had taken away the Leopold monster for good.

She had given a watery smile and said she hoped so too.

So when the knock came at the door, the last person she wanted to see – or expected to see - was one Emma Swan. The cheek of her, after all that had happened, to impose herself on her again, uninvited.

Henry had opened the door to her before Regina could object and pointed to his mother in the lounge.

Regina sat there frozen. She knew what she looked like. And judging by the way the blonde was eyeing her sideways, she knew it was obvious exactly what she had been doing this past hour.

"Miss Swan, what do you want?" she asked tiredly, not bothering to stand. She doubted she could anyway.

"I, uh, are you OK?" She was looking up at her with those big puppy eyes and Regina couldn't take it anymore.

"Get to the point," she snapped waspishly, ignoring the question.

Emma placed a small digital voice recorder on the coffee table in front of her. "It was Sidney Glass. He set me up. He sent the text from your phone. I have him on a secret recording."

Regina felt her mouth drop open. She stared at the blonde.

"Why?" she asked hoarsely. "He is one of my most trusted employees."

"I … it's all on the tape." Emma took a step, backing away, and Regina's suspicions were immediately aroused.

"What is it that makes you so nervous you can't say it to my face?" she asked, eyes narrowing.

"It's… really, it's on there. All on there." And then she flushed.

Regina's eyebrows lifted. "Well why don't we listen to it together then," she suggested silkily, vastly curious as she watched the blonde shake her head vigorously and attempt to politely decline.

"I insist, Miss Swan," Regina said and reached for the device. She eyed her narrowly and pointed at the armchair opposite her. "Sit." It was not a request.

Emma sank slowly into the chair. "I really don't think you want me here when you hear this," she whispered. "Some things were said and uh…"

She faded out.

Regina ignored her and worked out where the Play button was. She pressed it and placed the device between them on the table, sliding her eyes back up to the blonde. She watched as the other woman shifted anxiously in her seat as though it were too hot. Her hands twisted themselves into knots.

Regina listened to the conversation without speaking, although her lips thinned when she realised how Sidney had done the deed. _Was there no one trustworthy left in her life?_

When they got to the part about semi colons, her eyebrows lifted. It was actually a surprisingly astute observation. Her eyes met the woman opposite, and she noted she was now chewing on her nails nervously.

By the time she heard Sidney admitting to the setup she was seething. And Emma was no longer even meeting her eyes. In fact she was staring at her boots. Regina wondered what on earth was coming up next. And then she heard it.

"Oh fuck! You love her, too!" Emma's voice. The emphasis on the 'too', impossible to mistake for anything but a confession of love. Love for her.

Regina blinked.

Emma blushed the deepest red and hugged her ribs. Regina stared at her in astonishment as they then listened to Sidney list all the telltale signs of Emma's feelings. Lip gazing, ass staring.

Regina felt uncomfortable and awkward just looking at the tortured blonde. She had now twisted herself into a human pretzel on the chair.

Finally Sidney explained he wanted to get Regina all to himself and she felt a flash of rage. All this pain she'd endured so Sidney Glass could moon over her exclusively?

She heard a disturbing growl and realised it had come from her own throat.

"Regina?" she heard the blonde ask uncertainly, her voice a mere husk. "Where are you going?"

The mayor looked around and realised she was on her feet.

"Where do you think?" she snarled.

"I, uh, are you sure you should drive in this condition? Or at least let me drive you."

"No," she said stalking over to get her coat. She looked around for her keys and her eyes fell on concerned green orbs watching her. "You may leave though."

"Regina…"

"Go, Miss Swan. And thank you for bringing this to my attention." There was no gratitude in her voice, she realised as she said it, just a coldness that indicated her intent. She saw Emma shiver just out of the corner of her eye.

The blonde rose and followed her to the door.

"Henry!" Regina called upstairs. "I need you to pack your backpack. You're staying at Kathryn's for the next little while."

A head appeared at the top of the stairs and small eyes flicked back and forth between his two mothers. A look of relief seemed to cross his face that they weren't trying to kill each other and his mother wasn't insulting Emma for once. He disappeared again to find his bag.

"Miss Swan," Regina said quietly, "I would appreciate it if you took Henry to Kathryn's for me. I will call her on the way to … my destination."

"Me?" Emma asked in wonder. "You're letting me take Henry somewhere?"

Regina frowned. "I am. It's best you agree before I change my mind."

"Yes," she said and nodded fervently.

"Good. And don't think this changes anything between us, Miss Swan," she said in a low growl. "We still have … many issues to overcome. But I concede you were indeed a particularly well-used pawn in Mr Glass's vicious little scheme."

Emma looked at her with a hurt 'I told you so' face and opened her mouth. She shut it again, however, and said nothing with a sad grimace.

Regina appreciated the lack of protest. She was too tired for fights on any more fronts. She could feel Emma's unspoken questions, though. _What's changed now? Did you think I was lying before?  
_

"Hearing is believing," Regina finally explained softly. "I found it too hard to believe before. It sounded so absurd - what you did to me was an _accident_?!" she snorted and glanced at Emma. "But now all of me understands that it happened as you said. Do not misunderstand me, Miss Swan, I am not absolving you of your part - what you did was both terrible and stupid. But now ... now I truly see it exactly as it happened."

She turned away as Henry ran up to them and missed a look of utter relief fill the other woman's face.

. . . . . . . . .

Sidney Glass, Regina decided, looked like he had just accidentally filled his pinstripe pants. His eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open. His face had an agonised look as if he was indeed expelling excrement in his underwear against his will.

It could not have happened to a nicer person.

"You disgusting little weasel," she snarled the moment she had entered the newspaperman's office.

The man actually tried to lean away from her. _As if he could escape her._

"Whatever she told you, or what you heard is…"

"The truth!" Regina snapped and leaned over his desk, latching onto his tie and pulling upwards, hard.

He made a satisfying gagging noise and the mayor couldn't resist doing it again before letting go.

"You have no idea what I went through because of your sick little scheme."

"Then have the sheriff arrested!" he blurted. "You shouldn't let someone who raped you walk free."

She slapped him so hard his teeth rattled.

"Shut the hell up," she demanded. "You will say _that_ to no one else or I will make sure you are spitting up your teeth for the next month."

"But she was the one who hurt you!" he pleaded.

"And you were the one who masterminded it and made it happen. Without you, she wouldn't have laid a finger on me. So really, little man, it was _you_ who tried to rape me, wasn't it?"

"No Madame Mayor! I would _never_ do that!"

She punched him suddenly in the nose and watched as a satisfying spurt of blood dribbled down towards his mouth. He made a strange yelp of pain which she found oddly satisfying.

"Let's try this again, my dear, because I am starting to think you have a hearing deficiency. And if you don't have one, I will make sure you soon do. Now if you sent someone to my house to hurt me, who was it who really hurt me? Hmm?"

"But I didn't _want_ her to hurt you. You were supposed to be outraged and then send her on her way."

Regina narrowed her eyes, trying to quell the inferno of rage. "So what you're saying is this is _my fault?_" she challenged, her voice suddenly dangerously quiet.

"N-No!" he sputtered. "I am saying she got carried away."

"Carried away? Actually, Miss Swan followed your instructions _to the letter_."

Sidney's eyes grew wide.

"Oh you didn't know that?" Regina hissed. She got up into his personal space and locked on to his enormous eyes. "She didn't stop until she had ticked every single box on your filthy little message. I am just glad it was a short message. I would hate to see what would have happened if you had suggested whips and chains as well."

Sidney swallowed anxiously.

"So, once again, _who_ hurt me?" she asked sweetly, watching as the blood dribbled into the man's mouth. He licked it away nervously.

Sidney muttered something.

"I can't hear you," Regina spat. She squeezed his cheeks with a pincer hard grip, mashing his face. "Try again." She let go and slapped him once more.

"I did," he admitted. "I hurt you."

"Good," she said and leaned back for a moment, eyeing him. She gave a cold smile. "Next you'll be telling me you always hurt the one you love."

She sneered and noted with a smirk his skin had flushed darkly.

"For the record, Mr Glass," she announced after a thoughtful pause, "If you were the last man on earth I wouldn't want you to lay a finger on me. In fact, so we're very clear, I would even rather bed Miss Swan before you. So, you simpering fool, whether you successfully run Emma Swan out of town or not – it would have made no difference."

She was satisfied by his appalled gasp.

"And also for the record – there was a reason I assigned you all those filthy, underhand little tasks over the years. No one else was fit for them. But you? Well you scooped them all up and came back for more, like a pitiful little puppy dying to please me."

Sidney's head dropped and Regina smiled coldly. "Oh, what's wrong, dear?" She gave him a mock frown. "Did I say something to make you sad? _Yes?_ Well then, now we're even."

The journalist's head lifted in surprise.

"Oh did I say even?" she corrected herself. "I actually meant you are about to suffer greatly for what you did to me. Every little nasty scheme you have been up to your ears in will be scrutinised by the mayor's office. We may actually have to report some of them to the public … shame about that."

"If you do that, then I will bring you down with me," Sidney snarled suddenly. "You can't do this to me! And I will tell everyone what Swan did to you. How she got her grasping fingers all over you. How would you like the shame of that!"

Regina felt a blinding flash rip through her body. It was an almost liquid searing fury.

"_My shame_?" she whispered and ran a hand seductively down his face. Then her knuckles lifted and sharp nails snagged onto skin and bit hard. "_My_ shame. _You_ get me _assaulted_ and talk about _MY_ shame?

She breathed against his cheek, delighted when he recoiled fearfully. "And you plan to challenge _me_? Do you feel somehow that you do not deserve to be punished?"

Sidney swallowed, trying to pull his face away from the fingernails drawing blood.

"My dear, dear, Sidney, you are a pathetic weasel. I can't believe it but you are actually making me appreciate the sheriff. At least Swan just manned up and accepted her punishment. She apologised and she endured everything I threw at her. She didn't whine and complain and threaten me.

"I even humiliated her in front of the whole town at a council meeting while she sat there and took it, just because she wanted to make things right…"

Regina faded out as she considered that for a moment. In spite of herself she was impressed. Her train of thought was distracted by a smirk from the man opposite.

"Oh you find that funny do you? That nasty little meeting?" Regina snapped. "She is braver than you will ever be, you cowardly piece of dung. Now look at that - you are _actually making me defend her_."

She gave a derisive snort, half appalled, half astonished.

"As for your other little threats?" Regina waved her hand. "The prosecutor and I are old friends. And should I ensure certain documents reach his hands, he will make sure the mayor's office looks cleaner than a nunnery, and the newspaper's office looks as dirty as a coal mine. We may even have to shut it down.

"So you can either lump my punishments or I will simply double down and throw the entire book at you. What'll it be?"

Sidney scowled. "Fine," he grunted. "What do you want me to do?"

"First," Regina said, leaning back thoughtfully, "I have decided an apology is in order."

. . . . . . . .

* * *

"Emma! Wake up! Wake up!" Mary Margaret's altogether too perky voice roused the sheriff from her slumber way too early.

"Whatisit?" she mumbled. "House on fire?"

"No! It's the paper! You're on the front page!"

"Uggh again? What's Regina say I did this time? Rob a bank?"

"No! It's way better," Mary Margaret exclaimed excitedly.

_Huh? _

Emma sat up and rubbed her eyes, then grabbed the paper thrust in front of her.

_TOWN HALL MEETING RETRACTION_

_The Office of the Mayor is concerned about a number of inaccuracies presented at the last Town Hall meeting concerning the Sheriff's Department. Mayor Regina Mills said yesterday that an investigation was underway as to how the errors were passed on to her as fact. In the meantime she wishes to correct the following:_

_The crime rate has not gone up 1600% under Sheriff Swan. It has in fact declined 4%_

_Lost dogs have not increased by 700% under Sheriff Swan. In fact no dogs have been reported missing. _

_Public inebriation and streaking offences have declined 12% under Sheriff Swan, and it is not accurate she participated in either of these crimes, and certainly did not do so while singing obscene dirty limericks._

_Motorcycle gang street warfare, vigilantism and a new Ku Klux Klan chapter have all been found to be false reports._

_Reports of pornography found on the Sheriff's computer were actually a Good Ladies Lumberjack clothing catalogue._

_In light of the above retractions, Mayor Mills would like to withdraw her pledge for a recall on the Office of Sheriff. She apologises for anyone affected by these inaccuracies.  
_

Emma let the paper drop in her lap.

"This is great news, Em!"

The blonde said nothing and simply shook her head. It was incredible. Regina Mills didn't 100_% _hate her guts any more. Maybe 99_%_, sure. But this was a start.

"Em?"

She stared at the story and read it over again.

_Regina didn't hate her._

"Em are you crying?"

"No," she whispered. "Well yeah. But, you know, happy tears."

She felt one small bundle of excited roommate land on her and arms wrap around her. "I am so pleased for you, Em."

"Me too," she sniffed.

Her phone suddenly beeped and Emma reached over to grab it. Her heart raced as she saw who the sender was.

"It's Regina," she said. She felt Mary Margaret lean over her shoulder and they read the text together.

"Miss Swan, Farmer Nate needs his pig pens mucked out again. I expect you there in 20 minutes. Try to be on time for once. R."

Emma found tears suddenly landing on her phone in huge fat dollops.

"Hey, Em, don't cry, it's not so bad as all that. I can come along if you like. If nothing else, for morale support."

Emma shook her head. "It's not that," she husked, "Look – the initials…"

"R?" Mary Margaret said. "So what? It means Regina, right?"

"Not _that_ initial. It's what's missing. She didn't write YDM!"

"YDM?"

"She would sign off all her texts with YDM – it means You Disgust Me. And look!" Emma waved the phone again. Another tear splattered over the screen and Emma laughed and sniffled at the same time.

"No YDM," she whispered in wonder and shared a delighted look with her roomie.

She shook her head again and felt a new sensation she hadn't felt in weeks. _Hope_.


	11. Chapter 11

**THE STAIRCASE**  
**By Red Charcoal**

**************Warnings: **Non-consensual sex references. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

**Chapter 11: WARMTH AT THE EDGE OF A WOUNDED SOUL  
**

Mary Margaret watched Emma virtually bounce off to the shower to prepare for a morning of shit shoveling. She watched with wry amusement. It took so little to make her roommate happy, and Regina Mills could just crook a finger to make her soar high or crash into a miserable heap.

A beep sounded and she glanced over to see Emma's phone light up. She saw the mayor's name on the text and grabbed the phone tentatively, wondering if the morning's shit-shoveling plans had been put on hold or something. Her eyes traced the single line of text and she instantly felt sick to the stomach.

"Miss Swan - I omitted my verification from my last text. It was an oversight. YDM. R.''

Mary Margaret stared at the message with mounting rage. With shaking fingers she quickly deleted the text, relieved Emma had never seen it.

It was time she and the mayor had a little chat about the difference between punishment and cruelty.

She put the phone back on the bed where she found it and shook her head in dismay. Three such horrible little letters.

* * *

Mayor Mills pulled up at Nate's farm and, as expected, Emma was already up to her rubber-booted ankles in wide slushy puddles of shit. She might have smirked if another sight hadn't captured her attention.

A small bundle of fury had spotted her instantly and was now stalking towards her Mercedes, arms swinging.

She could hear, muffled in the background, Swan call out to her, asking her what she was doing.

Regina considered simply starting her engine and roaring off and leaving the teacher and her roommate to their pigs and muck. But there was something about the look on Blanchard's face that made Regina feel like she'd be a coward if she did.

White knuckles rapped sharply on the tinted driver's side window.

After a suitable pause to show who was in charge, Regina pressed a button and the window lowered smoothly.

"May I help you, dear?'' she asked sweetly, with a perfect amount of condescension.

"Mayor Mills,'' Miss Blanchard began with gritted teeth. "We need to talk.''

Regina inched her eyebrows up and affected lack of interest although she was now burning with curiosity.

"Do we, dear?''

"I want you to know I deleted it.''

"Deleted what?'' Regina frowned now, leaning forward. She slipped her sunglasses up off her nose and over her hair so she was eyeball to enraged eyeball with the other woman.

"That disgusting, filthy second text you sent her this morning. Emma told me what YDM means. I deleted it before she could see it. She was so excited and happy when she thought, finally, she no longer disgusted you.''

Regina felt surprise at that revelation and slid her eyes over to the blonde woman in the background. Swan was wearing a white tank top, already adorned with liberal spatters of mud and god knows what else on it, absurdly tight jeans - as always - and black rubber boots. Her muscled biceps were now gleaming with sweat; her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Her hands, still bandaged from the tire haulage exercise, worked the shovel strongly. As if sensing being watched, Swan turned and gazed at her. And for a moment, she smiled at Regina - as if forgetting in that split second why she was doing what she was doing. She seemed simply ... happy to see her.

Mary Margaret had followed Regina's eyes and saw Emma's smile and they both turned back to each other.

"See,'' she hissed. "Look at how much better she looks.''

Regina scowled and slipped her sunglasses back over her eyes, securing her mask. "That was your first mistake, dear. I don't care how she looks.''

"Oh really,'' the teacher said with an uncharacteristic hint of mocking in her tone. "Then why are you here? We both know Emma is a woman of her word. She doesn't need your 'supervision'.''

Regina had no answer for that. _Why was she here? She wanted to watch Emma - obviously. But why?_

Of course she knew it was not to supervise. And she had already come to realise that she felt no real satisfaction in seeing the blonde's suffering anymore. _Was it just ... habit? Or something else?_

At Regina's silence, Mary Margaret leaned almost inside the car. "You think she deserves to be punished? Fine. I think it's overkill, but whatever, and she's not complaining. But no more of this YDM bullshit, Regina. That's cruel. There is no reason to be cruel, too. None.''

"You don't even know what she did to me,'' the mayor spat back.

"No, I don't. Not entirely. And while I have a brain and eyes and can make a highly educated guess thanks to all the clues, it doesn't even matter really, does it? We both know she did not intend to do to you what was done to you. So - as much as you are suffering, and I get that - knock off the fucking cruelty with it!''

Regina's eyes flew wide open at the obscenity, and was glad her glasses hid her reaction.

The teacher herself seemed slightly startled. But she continued. "_Do you hear me?_'' It came out as an anguished whisper.

"I don't answer to you, Miss Blanchard,'' Regina replied coolly, although she was faintly rattled. "And I will thank you to keep your 'opinions' to yourself.''

The smaller brunette sighed. "You know what's funny. And by funny I mean _absurd_. You don't even know why you're doing this any more do you, Madame Mayor?''

"What?''

"All of this. Watching her. Grinding her under heel. Sending her nasty texts. The story in the paper today tells me your focus for vengeance has shifted elsewhere. To Sidney Glass. Yes, Emma told me he was the mastermind behind getting you and Emma ... hurt. So why persist with _this_?'' She waved her hand towards Swan.

"_Because she deserves it!" _Regina spat. It came out a lot less convincing than she thought it would.

Mary Margaret shook her head. "She really doesn't any more. You've tortured her more than enough. And you know it, too. Just admit it to yourself and you'll be a lot happier.''

Regina snarled. "_You _don't get to tell me what will make me happy, and you certainly do not get to tell me when Miss Swan's punishment has been completed.''

"No, I don't. But at least just be honest. You sent the second text out of fear. Fear that you forgot for half a second you were supposed to hate her. Half of you probably regrets the newspaper retraction, too. But the war is not with Emma any more, it's with yourself.''

"You know nothing! How dare you!''

"I dare because I love her,'' the teacher said neutrally, tilting her head. "And we both know that when people love, they do things that are foolish or that aren't thought through properly. Don't punish Emma for eternity for that. For loving you.''

Regina gaped. "You knew?''

"I live with her. She didn't tell me, but I knew. I think _I_ knew she loved you before _she_ did. I also know her heart is breaking right now for hurting you. In fact there is no punishment greater than what she is meting out to herself. And I know she would shovel shit for you for the rest of her life if you asked her to. Because she hates herself so much for whatever happened. But really, how will that make you feel any better? Or undo what cannot be undone?''

Regina's lips thinned. "This conversation is over, Miss Blanchard.'' She reached for her car keys to start the engine. But she didn't turn the key.

The two women stared at each other for a long moment. Finally the teacher's hand snuck out and grabbed Regina's. "Please,'' she pleaded, "Whatever you decide - just no more of those hateful initials. Or you'll be worse than you think she is. Because the difference is - you'll be cruel _on purpose_.''

"That is enough." Her voice was low, threatening and cold. Regina shook off the hand, stabbed the window-closing button until all she could see was the teacher's silhouette and gunned the car's engine.

She squealed out of the farmer's yard with far more speed than was necessary, willing her thumping heart to be still. Once she was out of sight of the farm she pulled over.

Hell, if the annoying teacher hadn't been right about the text. She had completely forgotten the initials. Then she had panicked at what that meant.

She had wanted nothing more than the righteousness of her anger to burn as cold and hard and pure as it had last week. And she had half regretted the newspaper article the moment she saw it. It made her wonder what Emma would think. _Swan_! _What SWAN would think._

_Fuck_.

She did not want any more uncertainty in her life. It was hard enough to face getting out of bed in the morning. Catching sight of herself in the mirror. Agonising in front of the wardrobe every goddamned day. She did not need all these other competing feelings screaming at her, too. Empathy versus vengeance. She did not care what Emma felt. _SWAN_! _The woman's name was Swan. _She was not her friend.

She would write YDM on texts from now till eternity if she goddamned wanted to, she humphed to herself.

_The only thing was ..._

She recalled the hint of a smile Emma Swan had shot at her. The look on her face, thinking Regina didn't hate her as much today as she did yesterday. And Regina had liked that look far more than she cared to admit. Seeing guilt on Emma's face every time she saw her just made her ache inside. It reminded her of what had happened. All of it.

But seeing that smile? It was like a ray of warmth, licking at the edge of her wounded soul.

Yes, she would write YDM on texts from now till eternity if she wanted to. But it just so happened she would never choose to do so again.

Regina restarted the engine and drove slowly away.

The image of Emma's smile lingered in her head.

_Emma. Her name was Emma._


	12. Chapter 12

**THE STAIRCASE**  
**By Red Charcoal**

**************Warnings: **Non-consensual sex references. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

**Chapter 12: TELL ME WHY  
**

Regina Mills had been staying the hell away from Emma. The blonde had checked her phone every morning, then repeatedly throughout the day, but nothing. She had found, weirdly, she came to miss the orders insisting she do her penance. While she worked hard, bruising her body, stretching her sinews, she felt she was doing something small on the path to redemption.

But silence? She wasn't sure what the hell that meant.

She had received only one email from Regina - an announcement the mayor had discovered Sidney Glass to be swindling city funds. This meant he was not only being stood down as editor while an investigation was being conducted by a fraud investigator supplied by the chief prosecutor's office, but it also meant some more money had miraculously been "found'' in the budget for Ruby.

Emma had received a single line email stating "Miss Lucas can now be rehired as deputy if you deem it necessary.''

Ruby had almost run the entire way over the moment Emma had rung her with the news.

She deposited her small box of stationery and knick-knacks on her old desk with a delighted grin and told Emma: "See - I told you you two would work it all out!''

"Rubes, we didn't just have an argument,'' Emma said and frowned. "And I don't know we've worked anything out. She is not speaking to me at all now.''

Ruby had merely shrugged as if this was no impediment to the path back into the mayor's affections, or whatever it was she imagined she and Emma shared.

The sheriff had sucked the end of her pen morosely and pondered what on earth any of it meant.

On the plus side, as the weeks began to roll on, turning into months, she discovered not doing a double shift every night did wonders for her sleep patterns, her mood and her friendships.

Mary Margaret had stopped looking at her like she feared she was teetering on some precipice and needing an intervention.

They still hadn't returned to their easy-going friendly relationship - mainly because Emma just didn't find life too funny anymore. But things were improving, incrementally.

Even the sight of Sidney doing a walk of shame from the newspaper's office after it was revealed he had bugged virtually every business in Storybrooke hadn't cheered her up. She'd just pushed through the paperwork and waited for the prosecutor to turn up to interview him. Again. And pushed through even more paperwork after he was formally charged.

She had watched, arms folded, mouth in a grim line as he was lead away to the reinforced police transport vehicle. The man's face was ashen and he seemed genuinely afraid, not cocky for once, as he paused, one foot on the single steel stair to the rear of the wagon.

For a moment their eyes met and he stared right through her with an icy coldness that made her inwardly shudder. This was HER fault now he had been arrested? Jesus. The man was a nutcase if he didn't understand his choices had lead to him being forced, handcuffed, into the back of that police vehicle.

Once the paperwork came out, it turned out he was dirty for so much bad shit in Storybrooke that it was a miracle he hadn't accidentally indicted himself several times over on a daily basis. It also had become abundantly clear to everyone that the only person keeping him out of jail had been Regina. Although Emma had a fairly strong feeling everything he was dirty for had been at the mayor's behest anyway.

As if on cue, as the heavy rear doors were swung closed by a police guard, and the space beyond them revealed one Mayor Regina Mills, arms crossed, lips pursed, holding herself, fingers clutching the sides of her black turtleneck. The indecipherable look on her face shifted when she caught sight of Emma and they found they were both staring at each other.

Regina hesitated then, as if deciding whether to interact. Emma held her breath. Hoping.

Finally the mayor simply turned on heel and stalked off, leaving the sheriff vastly disappointed.

She wondered what the ever unpredictable mayor had been going to say.

It was 2:12am the first time Emma's phone rang that night. Or morning, to be precise. With an indignant grunt, she had rolled over cursing and fumbling for it, having been shattered out of a deep sleep. Her bleary eyes had frowned the moment she recognised the caller.

"Hello?" she'd asked tentatively, as if half suspecting she was being pranked.

"Well if it isn't the m-mighty Sheriff Swan," came a drawling, and slightly slurred voice. A very familiar voice. Who had been hitting the apple cider a little too hard, it seemed.

"Regina?" she asked, even though she'd recognise her anywhere. It gave her a moment to gather her thoughts.

"How does it f-feel," the slurred voice continued.

"What?" Emma asked in confusion. "How does what feel?"

"Seeing Sidneyyy Glassss hauled off today. The man ... dusgusting little toady creature ... who humiliated us. Gone."

Emma let out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding. 'Us'. Regina had said 'us'. It was progress. Like huge progre…

"You should have gone with him, dear," the mayor continued. "You do realissse that, don't you? That's what I was thinking w-watching you today. Why is thattt Emma Swan woman still free?"

"I tried to get Ruby to arrest me," Emma sighed, "But you had her free me, remember?"

There was silence and then a shuddering breath from the other end of the phone. "Of c-course. I... yes," she finally said. "So they wouldn't all know," she hissed, as though revealing a dark secret. "M-miss Sswan, I did it to protect me, not you."

"I know," Emma whispered.

"Good."

The phone clunked dead.

Emma had just gotten back to sleep an hour later when the phone shrilled into life again. This time she didn't bother to check whose name was on the call.

"Regina," she said tiredly. "Can't sleep?"

"M-missss Swwwan. Is...is it any wonder why not?" a now exceedingly drunk mayor supplied. Emma realised the other woman was also very close to tears. "Thisss is your fault. YOUR FAULT. M-miss Ssswannn... Getting rid of Sidney d-didn't fix annnything."

"Did you think it might?" Emma asked softly.

A long beat. "I-I thought I would sleep again," came the tortured voice. "Fffinally. Sleep. No nightmares. There were... I-I had hopes. Lots of hopes."

"You're having nightmares? God, Regina, I'm so sor…"

"Shut up! Swan! I don't want to hear you... s-ssay you're sorry [her breath hitched] over and over," Regina ground out. "All it does is remind me WHY. A-and I ... I am tired of reliving it. Tired of feeling it. And feeling vvvulnerable. I am TIRED!"

Emma couldn't think want to say.

"I have t' know. Do you?" Regina finally demanded when it was clear the blonde had nothing to add.

"What?"

"Ever ... relive it, dear? Ever go through it all, step by ag'nising step. Ever re...rem'ber the moment you kissed me. And groped me. And t-tasted me. Did you like what I tasted like, mmm? Miss Ssswan? Do you r-relive it and get off on it?!"

"SHUT UP!" Emma finally howled, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. "NO! God, I am not some raping piece of shitty lowlife who enjoyed doing that to you! FUCK! I would not do that on purpose. Of course I relive it. I relive the hell of knowing I hurt you so fucking much that I may never get over it. God – do you think I *want* to remember what you felt like and how you … you tasted? I try to rid my mind of it every day, because it's like a fucking war in my head. I am in LOVE WITH YOU. AND I RAPED YOU. FUCK REGINA – How the hell do you think I feel? What sort of a monster do you take me for?!"

The phone was silent and all Emma heard was ragged breathing and stifled noises. And then it clicked dead.

Emma threw her face into her pillow with a muffled howl and couldn't contain the tears this time. Fuck, this was like a new form of agony. She wondered, not for the first time, whether she should just leave town and give Regina her closure.

But – she wouldn't – not until Regina asked.

The phone rang 20 minutes later.

This time when Emma answered, softly saying Regina's name, all she could hear was the sounds of a woman's muffled crying, but like she was trying not to. There were a few abortive attempts at speech, but they all failed. The sounds that came next seemed barely human. It chilled Emma to the bone. Regina was so far from the woman she'd once known it was like day and night.

It was agony. This was agony. Finally the blonde cut through the anguished noises and said firmly: "Listen to me, Regina, I am coming round there. I need to know you're OK. I don't expect you to crawl out of bed and let me in, so I'll go up the balcony. I'll look in on you, 'kay? And if you want me to go, you just say but I am really scared for you."

She waited for an acknowledgement but all she heard was a strange noise that could have been "don't" and the phone went dead again.

She debated. She'd gotten into this mess in the first place because she'd overruled Regina's wishes. But this was serious - what if she harmed herself? She needed to be sure, right? For Henry? Emma quickly threw on a thick coat over her tanktop, and some jeans and boots over her briefs. She bolted for her car, her face almost freezing when it felt the chill on the night air.

She drove in fear, terrified of what she might find. What Henry might find if she didn't. That thought made her stamp on the accelerator even harder and before long she was at the mayor's address. She could see the faintest of lights from one of the rooms. Had to be Regina's.

She scaled the side of the building easily – it was something she was good at, thanks to her bounty hunter days. Before she knew it was hauling herself bodily on to the balcony outside Regina's window. She could see a figure huddled up in blankets, on her bed, trembling. Well, at least she was still awake and conscious.

She knocked on the French doors and, when Regina said nothing from within, she tried the handle. To her surprise they weren't locked. She wondered if Regina had opened them for her, or whether she figured no one would ever dare break into the mayor's house and habitually left them in that condition.

She looked down, realising she was standing on the threshold for Regina's bedroom. It would not do to cross it uninvited. Especially given … everything.

So Emma dropped to the floor, right there on the threshold and leaned her back against the doorframe, wrapping her arms around her knees, as much to show Regina where her hands were, as to ward off the cold.

"I just wanted you to know I'm here Regina, in case you want to, I dunno, talk."

"I didn't invite you," came a slurred voice from within the blanket nest. "Never as'ed,"

"I know. But I was worried. I am gonna stay here for a little bit. In case you need me."

"Why on earth do you think I would need you," came a vicious snarl from deep inside the pile of blankets. It was undercut by a small sob.

"Yeah, I know. But hey, we all have dark days and less dark days, and I am thinking this might be one of those darker ones for you."

Silence. And then sniffling.

"Do you want to talk? It can help. So I'm told." Emma tried again.

Laughter then – cruel and mocking. Emma winced.

"It did not 'help' when I talked to that foool H-hopper. And you do see the ... absurdity of YOU ... Mmiss Ssswan offering to play my counsellor."

"Yeah," Emma sighed. "I really do. But given only a few people know what happened, that kind of limits your choices. So I thought maybe, you know…"

"You don't think at all, do you, dear?" Emma heard the insult and then sniffling again.

"I tend to leap first, if that's what you mean." Emma said, ignoring the barb, rubbing her calves, trying to increase the circulation. She was surprised she hadn't been given her marching orders by now as it was.

"I had n-noticed," the voice seemed to be attempting coldness but it came out wry. It seemed clearer now. Unmuffled.

Emma tilted her chin up and was startled to realise Regina's rumpled brown head was now out of the blankets and blood-shot eyes were pinning her with a piercing look. She looked like absolute crap. Dark circles under her puffed up eyes, her cheekbones gaunt, her once luxuriant hair seemed limp. But none of that dulled the blazing eyes locking onto her.

The blonde shrugged helplessly. "Impulsive. It's who I am."

Regina stared at her. "Yes. It is, isn't it."

The women locked eyes for a few moments. It felt like hours. Emma finally dropped her gaze and fiddled with the laces on her boots. Now or never. "So, do you want me to leave? Storybrooke,'' she clarified.

"Why do you ask?" Regina asked silkily.

"I want ... clarity. Is my punishment over?'' Emma replied, unwilling to see the face of the woman she feared was about to exile her. "You haven't been texting me with punishments for two months now.''

"Do you feel I have punished you enough?'' Regina asked, and this time her tone sounded both almost sober and highly dangerous.

"I...'' Emma thought about that. "No. I don't think I will ever feel punished enough. As long as I live.''

Regina watched her then for a moment and finally looked past her, out the window. She clawed fingernails through her hair. Then wiped her puffy eyes with the back of her hand. "I-I am relieved Mr Glass has ... gone," she suddenly confessed in a small whisper. Her eyes darted to Emma's. "It was not until he climbed onto that police van today that I realised how glad I was to be rid of the revolting bastard. He made me feel dirty just knowing he was around. The way his eyes watched my b-body," she swallowed. "Knowing what happened to me. At his command. T-that creep made me feel always ... unclean."

She suddenly glared at Emma. "And yet he wasn't the one who touched me,'' she said. She tilted her head as though confused. "It is ironic. Isn't it.''

Emma stared at her helplessly. "I wish I hadn't. With all my heart I wish I hadn't,'' she said, eyes filling with tears as she looked pleadingly at the mayor.

Regina watched her for a moment and then glanced outside again. "I know,'' she finally admitted. "But that does not make it any easier for me.''

The blonde nodded. She exhaled sharply. "So you want me to leave?" Her voice contained resignation.

"I did not say that. It's not just me I have to consider. My son wants you to stay," Regin said. She shook her head in irritation. "He asks about you almost every day."

Even at this distance, Emma could see Regina's jaw clench.

"OK. So what do YOU want?" Emma asked.

Regina laughed mirthlessly. "For it to be undone. Or over. Either one. I don't want to feel this way anymore."

Emma felt the tears pricking her eyes again and covered them with her hands. She could feel the brunette watching her.

"I want that, too," she confessed, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. She let them drop and pinned a sad look on Regina "I just don't know how to get us there." She could not disguise the longing.

"There is no 'us', Miss Swan," Regina growled in indignation.

"I know, I just meant..."

"The idea is absurd. Outrageous even, especially given everything that's happened. Why would I ever want to be touched by you..."

"I didn't mean that I..."

"My God, it's not like you were anything to me before this. You were annoying, and in the way..."

"Regina - I get it! You hate my guts. You don't have feelings for me. You don't want to touch me or vice versa. OK? End of."

Regina's eyes caught hers and Emma could see the unshed tears shimmering. And for just a moment her mask dropped and she saw a tormented woman underneath. Regina was a tangled mess of confusion.

"That's just it," she finally whispered hoarsely, sliding back down into her bed. She drew in a deep breath and pulled the covers over her body. She sounded sleepy and the cider and emotions had obviously caught up with her.

Regina's voice dropped to the faintest whisper and she slurred her final words before falling asleep. "I don't hate you, M-miss Ssswannn. I b'n trying so hard to.

"I so wish I could. Why can't I ...? Tell me why..."


	13. Chapter 13

**THE STAIRCASE**  
**By Red Charcoal**

**************Warnings: **Non-consensual sex references. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

**Chapter 13: ONE STEP FORWARD, TWO STEPS BACK**

Emma woke with a start and a bolt of pain coursing through her stiff neck. Sunlight was washing her weary face and she blinked in complete confusion. _Where the hell was she?_ She slid her eyes left. _Well, hell. Storybrooke. From two storeys high - Regina Mills's balcony view if she wasn't mistaken._

_Regina!_

She snapped her head to the right, to look around the bedroom, and immediately wished she hadn't. Pain lanced her screaming neck muscles, fused from half a night of poor posture.

The queen-sized bed beyond the French doors was neatly made. No one was in the room.

_Figures._

The last thing she remembered was Regina nodding off and Emma's mouth dropping open at her last words. Regina did not hate her. Try as she might, she couldn't. And then ... Emma clearly had fallen asleep herself.

The clock tower chimed in the distance. _Shit! Eight already?_ She made a move to stand and glanced down at a movement out of the corner of her eye. A soft pale blue blanket fell down to her waist and she stared at it uncomprehendingly.

Her fingers reached out to stroke it, examining the quality and texture. It took a moment to register how it could possibly have ended up wrapped around her when she had not put it there herself. Finally her waking synapses put it all together and she felt herself grinning like a fool. _Regina_. _Regina had not wanted her to be cold._

Shaking fingers stroked the blanket once more before she stood, folded it neatly and placed it on the end of Regina's bed. She crept out of the bedroom, onto the balcony, closing the doors and shimmied down the house wall, noticing as she landed that Regina's Merc was gone.

She quickly headed for her Bug, working out her own schedule quickly. _Home, shower, coffee, office._ No, scratch that, she was expected at a council meeting today. Something about sorting through some of Sidney's affairs and paperwork. Rubber-stamping the mayor's new outline to prevent corruption occurring again.

Emma almost laughed out loud at that when she'd first heard the proposal. The easiest way for Regina to prevent corruption not happening again in the mayor's offices was to not do it herself. And everyone knew it - even if no one said it.

Still, she mused as she slid into the driver's seat, she supposed she'd better make an appearance. After all she was the official face of law and order. She glanced at her watch, swore colourfully and quickly stamped on the gas pedal.

* * *

Regina Mills was having a good day. The moment she woke and her eyes settled on the empty bottle of cider on her bedside table, she knew she had no right to feel this good. She wasn't usually one for hangovers, but even so, she'd drunk the entire bottle. And yet - _this_ was how she felt.

She tried to work out what was different. For one, she'd slept. Really slept. No nightmares. No seeing HIM. No waking up with gritty eyes, feeling dried tears, her voice sore from strangled sobs.

_But why?_

She racked her brain trying to fathom what had changed. Her eye fell to her cell phone beside the cider glass and she bit back a strangled gasp. She'd called the sheriff. Repeatedly. And then? She struggled to remember the rest. She could almost see Emma talking to her. But that was ridiculous. They'd been on the phone.

Yet it felt almost like they were in the same room together. _Surely not... _Heart beating faster, she suddenly swung to face her balcony doors.

_Shit! Emma Swan!_ Knees bunched up, arms hugging herself, her neck at an uncomfortable angle against the door frame.

Regina stared. And then stared some more.

_When the hell had THAT happened?_

She wished she could remember what they'd talked about. Or how she had come to be there. As she observed the blonde, she noticed how cold Emma's lips looked and grabbed a blanket and knelt in front of her.

All curled up like this, Emma seemed so small. Regina found it hard to imagine this creature had been the source of so much of her angst these past few months.

She gently wrapped the blanket around her, rationalising to herself it wouldn't do to let the town's sheriff freeze to death outside her bedroom. It would be exceptionally hard to explain. And besides, Henry might miss her.

She rose and turned, eying her bed. Unlike the usual mess of twisted sheets she had faced each day for three months, it looked almost serene. She had definitely had a good night's sleep. She expertly made the bed, careful not to make a sound as she did so.

The feeling of smoothing sheets under her hands, and tucking in the sides was relaxing. As she worked she caught flashes of memories around the edge of her mind. Of Emma talking to her.

And Regina telling her how she felt.

Just as she dropped her plumped pillow into its rightful place, she froze as she recalled her final words before falling asleep. She groaned inwardly. Had she really told Emma she couldn't hate her? And then asked her to tell her why? _Oh hell!_

A faint flush worked her way up her cheeks and she straightened and arced her head around to examine the blonde once more.

It was true though. She bit her lip as she turned away. God help her, but she could not hate that woman curled up like a small animal in her bedroom. The woman had driven over to her in the middle of the night to stay with her, because she was afraid for Regina. And the mayor, to her complete surprise, had felt nothing but a sense of comfort and reassurance since her night visitor had arrived.

Regina could make no sense of it. It was insane. But there was no disputing one thing: she had never slept better in months.

The mayor ran her fingers through her hair as if trying to comb out the confusion she was feeling. Finally she gave up and decided to focus on what she _did_ know. And that was simple: she was having a good day.

* * *

Emma Swan was late for the council meeting, and the brunette at the table at the head of the crowded room eyed her with hidden amusement. The blonde had almost skidded around the corner like an errant school child and then attempted to stride the rest of the way in as though she hadn't clearly run the whole way. _Priceless_. She had seen Henry perform that precise manouver many many times. She hid her smirk behind her hand and ordered any "latecomers'' to be seated at once.

She watched as Emma nodded in her direction as she was crossing the room, then seem to freeze for a split second as she took in Regina. Or, to be precise, her clothing.

The mayor glanced back down at herself self-consciously. Trust Emma bloody Swan to be the only one in the room to notice her appearance. She had felt daring this morning and had donned a navy skirt and white blouse, two buttons undone - she couldn't quite force herself to leave the third undone, but it was a start. Other council members had barely looked at her. If they noticed her wardrobe change, she'd seen no sign.

Not Emma Swan. Oh no. She had all the subtlety of a water buffalo. She had to freeze mid-stride, gape, and then her whole face broke out into a beautiful smile.

_Not beautiful! NOT BEAUTIFUL. A smile. A regular smile._

Regina scowled at herself. _Really, it's not like Emma Swan was anything more than plain at the best of times. It's just she just scrubbed up well when she smiled like that and it was only natural for anyone to have noticed._

Realising Emma had created a mini spectacle of herself, the blonde abruptly resumed walking and then sat with a graceless plop, muttering "sorry'' to the waiting room.

"As we were saying,'' Regina continued, trying not to notice how she felt so ill at ease now, "the paperwork must always go through three committee members in order to get approved, even at the first submission stage.''

Heads were nodding in approval and Regina felt satisfied. Not only had Sidney's public disgrace focused everyone's attention off her and the sheriff's erratic behaviour of late, but it had given her some excellent political mileage. Everyone was on board her changes; no one had offered a peep of challenge. All was right with the world.

For the first time in three months, she had felt quite a bit like her old self.

"We will vote,'' Regina continued with a small, pleased smile, warmed to see out of the corner of her eye an answering grin from the blonde.

"We need a second for the motion - item 1.1 on the agenda?''

"I second it,'' a councilman's voice responded.

Voices faded into the background and Regina slid her eyes over to the sheriff to find she was watching her. Regina tilted her head, leaning it on her hand and observed her under hooded eyes.

She watched as the blonde lifted her hand along with everyone else to vote. She watched only the blonde as the motion was carried. Her mind wandered. _How was it that this woman's mere presence in her room gave her the best night's sleep she'd had in so long?_ She puzzled over it._ Maybe it was just a coincidence? Hell, she was due a decent sleep one of these days._

The more she thought about it, the more Regina was convinced that had to be all it was. She'd been so tired it was a miracle she wasn't falling asleep at her desk.

Emma blinked at her hesitantly and Regina realised she'd been obvious in her staring. In fact, judging by the silence, it was obvious to everyone else.

Disconcerted, the mayor frowned._ What the hell was going on with her?_ She shook herself mentally and dropped her eyes back to the agenda.

"Item 1.2,'' she intoned, "the abuse of surveillance equipment. I think we'd all like to hear from the sheriff on this?''

The shocked look on Emma's face was decidedly comical. That was precisely why she'd done it. She watched the blonde squirm, shoot Regina a dark look and then rise slowly to her feet.

"We all know what Sidney did was wrong,'' Emma began hesitantly. She cleared her throat then continued in a much bolder voice. "So anyone still doing it, cut it out. Right?''

She sat.

Titters of laughter went around the room.

Regina raised her eyebrows. "Yes,'' she intoned direly, pursing her lips to keep from laughing, and repeated wryly, "everyone 'cut it out'.''

It was quite possibly the first time the mayor had shown any levity on any topic for so long that it was like a dam bursting. The room erupted. The laughter was loud and long, the unexpectedness just seeming to fuel it.

Surprise flooded Regina's features and she forced herself not to gape as she went from face to face. She turned to her right and caught a shamefaced look from Emma. _Ah yes, more guilt._ Buckets of angsty guilt that she had made their mayor more highly strung than a children's wind-up toy and everyone was feeling it. She sighed.

At the flash of annoyance she knew must have crossed her face she watched as the sheriff forced herself to straighten out her expression into something approaching neutral.

But it was too late. The memory was back. In the forefront. Right there. Her good mood evaporated and she slammed a hand down on her desk.

"Enough,'' she growled. "If you're all finished, the issue of spying on our citizens is not one to be taken lightly by anyone.'' She turned to glare at the sheriff as she said the last word. "I suggest our sheriff goes away from this meeting and seriously considers ways we can restrict sales and access to secret recording devices which were used in such nefarious activities as those performed by Mr Glass.''

Emma's face had fallen and she now looked like a whipped kitten. Regina grimaced. She hadn't wanted to see that expression either. She wanted the smile back. Was that too hard? She was at a loss as to how to invoke it.

Her mood ruined, she abruptly stood and adjourned the meeting, citing an important business call. She stalked quickly away, feeling all eyes upon her, _judging_ her.

* * *

The meeting had been a disaster. She felt exposed once more, anxious and wished she could make them all go away.

_Could she just call it a day and go home?_ She glanced at her outfit, feeling ridiculous now and vastly annoyed she had worn it. Annoyed Emma Swan had stopped and stared. Annoyed they had all laughed. And annoyed in general.

A light knock made her look up.

"Hey, uh Regina,'' the sheriff said looking at her in concern. "Just wanted to see whether you're OK. You left kinda fast.''

"I am perfectly all right, Sheriff,'' Regina snapped. "I do not need to be babysat. And that rabble should know better.'' She snarled at the word 'rabble'.

Emma tilted her head thoughtfully.

"They weren't laughing at _you_, you know,'' she said softly. "It was just, like, it felt good to laugh for once. Been so long.''

Regina gritted her teeth. "And you are well aware of why that is, now aren't you?'' She dropped her eyes unseeingly to the paperwork in front of her.

"If that will be all?'' she added, not looking up.

"Ah...''

"Finish that report, Miss Swan. I expect it on my desk by tomorrow morning.''

"OK.'' The sheriff appeared to slump against the door. Regina ignored her.

"You might want to get a start now,'' she added in a low sneer, when she heard no movement by the door.

After a long beat, there were footsteps.

Regina exhaled.

_That had not gone as she expected. _She just wanted to see that smile, goddamnit.

_Was that too much to ask?_


	14. Chapter 14

**THE STAIRCASE**  
**By Red Charcoal**

**************Warnings: **Non-consensual sex references. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

**Chapter 14: WATCHING  
**

The sheriff had dropped off the paperwork on surveillance equipment sales in Storybrooke the next day. Regina had barely registered it. But suddenly, three weeks later the mayor had called her in saying they had to discuss it. Emma was nervous. She hadn't seen nor heard from the brunette in that time. And now, standing before her, she was horrified by what she saw.

Mayor Mills looked like a haggard, exhausted mess. Word around Storybrooke was to steer clear if you didn't want your head bitten off.

Emma answered some basic questions about her report; questions the mayor could have easily answered on her own. The brunette fell silent and Emma, assuming her duty was done, hesitantly turned to leave.

"Did I say you could leave Miss Swan?" came a scratchy voice.

Emma's eyebrow lifted.

"We have more to discuss."

Emma nodded and waited. Question after question on increasingly obscure topics kept Emma leaning from foot to foot, baffled as to what Regina was up to.

The mayor had kept her standing for more than an hour before finally exhausting all possible topics of conversation. And still, as the silence now dragged on as Emma waited to be dismissed, she felt sure the mayor had yet to ask the one thing that was really on her mind.

Whatever the hell that was. And so she stood, waiting.

"Miss Swan...''

_Here it comes_, Emma thought, wondering if now she would be asked to leave Storybrooke.

"I was wondering...''

Regina paused again and looked pained. Emma also felt pained - literally - as her calf muscles had been screaming from standing at attention in the office for this long. She shifted her weight again.

"If you don't want to, you may say no...''

Emma's eyebrows lifted. _So she wasn't being asked to leave._

"Would you come over tonight and sleep with me?''

The blonde's mouth fell open.

"Not like THAT!'' Regina snapped, appalled, and a deep redness infused her cheeks. "Near me. I meant. For _security_ reasons! Forget it. It was a mistake to ask. Get out!''

Emma still gaped, trying to understand. She thought back to the night she had stayed over. How relaxed Regina had initially seemed the next day at the meeting. The darkness under her eyes much lighter.

It had been a joy to see her like that and for a moment, crossing the floor, she had completely forgotten herself and been mesmerized by the other woman. How different she seemed. And then the meeting turned pear shaped.

Regina was now glaring at her, pointing at the door.

Emma simply drew back a chair and sank into it gratefully.

"You don't want me to leave,'' she said softly, ignoring the angry scowl. "And you should never be embarrassed to ask. About the sleeping thing. If you can't sleep because you don't feel safe, and having someone there helps relax you and give you a rest without nightmares, let me help. I can pick up my sleeping bag and be there whatever time you want. What's a good time?''

She decided by phrasing it as a fait accompli, Regina would be so focused on picking times, she would forget to be humiliated about asking.

The mayor however merely stared at her - well aware of being manipulated. Even for a good cause. The blonde remembered too late this was the other woman's forte after all. Manipulation.

Emma swallowed nervously and waited for the next salvo. Attack most likely.

"Did I say you could sit, Miss Swan?'' Regina sneered.

The best defence is an attack. Of course.

Emma shrugged. "No.''

"You don't actually listen to what I say very often, do you? I say get out, you sit down. I say forget about tonight, and you say what time? Is this a personal or genetic failing of yours - to do the polar opposite of my wishes.''

Emma flushed a little at that. Always that would hang between them. She nibbled at her lower lip and waited some more.

"Leave, Miss Swan. For once in your life just do as I say and leave.''

Emma nodded and rose obediently, a little disconcerted she had completely misread Regina - once again.

She was just reaching for the door when she heard one word.

"Eleven.''

Emma paused and without turning merely nodded and repeated in a low voice: "Eleven.''

And then she was gone.

* * *

At 11pm Emma dutifully scaled the wall of Regina's mansion, puffing a bit this time due to the pack on her back which included a sleeping bag and pillow.

When she reached the French doors she spotted Regina, already in her nightwear, covered with a silk robe, staring at her in complete astonishment.

"What?'' she asked as she opened the door. "You said 11?''

"I had rather expected you to knock on the front door like any civilised human being. But maybe I just answered my own question,'' the mayor said and pursed her lips.

Emma just lifted her shoulders in surrender, muttering about not wanting to wake Henry and began to lay out her sleeping bag on the threshold to Regina's bedroom. She could feel brown eyes on her, watching her closely.

"Why there?'' the brunette finally asked. "To make a quick getaway?'' She lifted her eyebrow.

"I didn't want to impose on your bedroom without, uh, permission.'' Emma looked at her questioningly.

Regina stared for a long beat before finally pointing to a space on the floor. Near the bed, but not too near. Emma nodded and pulled the sleeping bag towards it.

The brunette turned and slipped off her robe and Emma could see a pale blue pencil-strapped nightgown, which went to midway down her thighs. Muscled-olive skin legs stretched below it. Bare.

Emma quickly made a science of looking down at the floor, plumping her pillow and unzipping the bag. She removed her boots and placed them by the door. When she looked up, Regina was in bed, watching her with dark, unfathomable eyes.

"What?'' Emma asked nervously. "Am I doing everything to your satisfaction?''

Shit, she cursed herself. That came out a lot more sarcastically than she intended.

Regina's lip curled. "For now.'' She turned and snapped off the lamp and rolled over.

"Night, Regina,'' Emma said, sliding into the bag.

She heard a muffled grunt. It was not entirely polite, but Emma smiled. She could have sworn the mayor had simply said "Emma.''

* * *

It was the thrashing that first alerted her. Emma's eyes snapped open and she felt instant confusion until she realised where she was. A muffled cry - Regina's voice - was like cold water on her face.

"No, you bastard,'' she was crying and pushing against her heavy blankets as if fending off an intruder. "Get OFF me, Leopold! I said no!'' Emma gasped. Suddenly she understood a lot more than she ever wanted to. These were the nightmares. The secret behind the mayor's eternal sadness, rage and defensiveness. And Emma's actions had been the one to bring the memories back to her, to haunt the mayor's nights.

Without thinking she unzipped herself from the bag and crawled onto Regina's bed, lying beside her, on top of the bedding.

"It's OK,'' she whispered soothingly trying to pull away the blankets the mayor was fighting ferociously.

The motion increased suddenly and a wild fist flew Emma's way, scoring a direct hit.

"SHIT!'' Emma blurted out in pain. She felt the crazed woman freeze and her head turn.

"Who's there?'' came a small frightened voice.

Emma slipped her hand over to Regina's and gently soothed a thumb over her trembling, cold wrist.

"Just me, Regina. It's Emma. You were having a nightmare.''

There was silence as the brunette digested that.

"What did you hear?'' she asked, voice croaky, afraid.

Emma contemplated lying. Sparing her feelings. But how would that help her?

Her silence must have been telling.

Regina snapped: "Well?''

"Enough,'' Emma finally conceded. "I am so sorry, Reg...''

"What did I tell you about you saying that word?'' The voice was indignant now. "I don't want to be reminded. Or pitied.''

Emma's thumb continued to rub Regina's hand soothingly. "I know. But I can't help wishing you weren't feeling this way.''

The other woman's hand retracted quickly and pulled under the blankets. Regina turned onto her side, curling into the foetal position, facing away. She was such a pathetically tiny lump in the big bed. Emma wondered what to do next when she heard a small voice. "Me too.''

Emma sucked in a breath. "Do you want me to leave?''

"Suit yourself,'' Regina spat, but her voice gave a small quiver.

"That's what I thought,'' Emma said understandingly, and drew back the sheets. The bed dipped as she got under them.

"What on earth are you doing, Miss Swan?'' the brunette's head whipped around, eyes wide.

"Nothing but giving someone who needs it some comfort. I will be here, beside you, until you go back to sleep. If the nightmares return, I will make sure to wake you immediately and talk to you about other things until they leave, and you will go back to sleep. I've had experience with this. I had a ...''

She stopped. Well she'd forgotten how this story ended up.

"A what, Miss Swan,'' came a small, curious voice.

"A cellmate once ... who had very bad dreams. This technique worked.''

There was silence and Emma could hear the rise and fall of the brunette's breathing as she debated.

"Stay on that side of the bed at all times.''

"Of course.''

"And if you touch me in any inappropriate way so help me I will eject you right over my balcony.''

"I'd expect nothing less.''

"Fine. And if you tell a soul about this, you will never see Henry again.''

"Threats aren't necessary, Regina. I would never talk of this.''

"It's not a threat. It's a promise.''

"I know.''

"And no snoring.''

"That's kind of out of my hands, Regina.''

"So you DO snore? I should have guessed.''

"What's that supposed to mean? Are you calling me common or something?'' Emma injected just the right amount of faux outrage to make Regina snort.

She smiled to herself.

"Not this time, Miss Swan. I am merely noting my son does, too.''

Emma chuckled at the idea of their ten-year-old snoring and was delighted when she heard a snuffle from the other side of the bed which meant she wasn't alone in that amusing thought.

"OK Regina, get some sleep, I'll be right here.''

"Just so you know, this isn't necessary,'' the muffled voice retorted. But they both knew it was for show.

Emma grinned into the darkness. "I know,'' she replied softly. "It's just to make me feel better.''

"Of course. You're so much trouble ...'' the voice faded out sleepily. Regina couldn't even be mean convincingly in this state.

Emma reached down for her pillow and slid her head on it. "I know,'' she whispered and without thinking drew her hand to lift the blanket up Regina's shoulder. She pulled back just before she stroked the tangled riot of brown hair nearby. She watched as Regina instinctively snuggled the blanket tightly around herself and fell into a deep slumber.

And so Emma Swan watched.  
**  
**


	15. Chapter 15

**THE STAIRCASE**  
**By Red Charcoal**

**************Warnings: **Non-consensual sex references. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

**Chapter 15: WAKING UP  
**

Emma had the most screaming bladder. The elbow intersecting it - not hers of course - was not helping. Nor was the toned leg, hooked over her bare calf. Or the tousled mess of soft brown hair nestled in the middle of her chest - attached to an adorable face, fast asleep. Nuzzling right between her breasts. Regina Mills had certainly made herself at home at some point in the night.

Emma wondered exactly how to extricate herself without waking a woman so sorely in need of sleep she had come begging to her of all people to try and get it.

Her bladder complained again. _This was getting ridiculous_. She twitched a little, trying to at least dislodge Regina's elbow, only to receive an indignant mutter and feel supple fingers squeezing around her waist tightly.

_Well hell. _Emma was utterly perplexed as to how to proceed when the bedroom door suddenly burst open.

"MOMMM! It's almost eight and I'm gonna be late and I haven't had breakf...''

Emma started in shock and shot an anxious glare at the impatient 10-year-old for disturbing his slumbering mother._ Couldn't he see how tired she'd been?_

Two things happened simultaneously. Henry Mills skidded to an almost cartoonish halt, blinking in astonishment at the sight of his adoptive mother snuggling his birth mother. There was no other word for it. She really _had _made herself at home.

And Regina Mills's eyes fluttered open.

At first a smile curved her lips as though waking from a rather pleasant dream. The fingers around Emma's waist let go of their grip and slid sensually up her ribcage for a brief moment. And then she froze.

Regina shot up off the sheriff's warm curves and reared back, gaping at her, as though the blonde had somehow purposely shoved herself underneath the mayor's body.

And then her head snapped fearfully towards the door.

"Henry?'' she squeaked. Regina Mills had actually squeaked. Emma bit her lip to keep from reacting.

The wide-eyed boy began backing away from their bed, lifting a small hand in surrender. Suddenly he was talking extremely quickly, tripping over his words. "ItsokIcanmakemyownbreakfast. You two keeping working things out and making up, kay?''

"Henry!'' Regina called out after him as he scampered down the hallway with what Emma concluded was a particularly cheery skip.

"Now look what you've done!'' Regina snapped her head angrily back to Emma who eyed her innocently.

"Huh?'' she said stupidly. "I was just lying here.''

Regina sat up straighter, leaving disappointingly cool patches where her warmth once teased Emma's body, and leaned against the wall. She glared at the blonde. "Now our son will think... _shit_.''

"He will think his mothers don't hate each other as much anymore. Which isn't a terrible thing, right?''

Regina scowled and crossed her arms. "He will think more than that.''

"He's only ten, Regina.''

The brunette eyed her sceptically and Emma took that moment to fling back the sheets. "Well I have more important business to worry about. Which way to the bathroom?'' She stood and looked at her questioningly, hands on hips.

Regina's eyes slid over the white tanktop and down to creamy briefs, and long, long legs for a moment. Emma watched herself being examined and her brain whirred curiously. _Did the mayor just check her out? What the hell?_

As if reading her mind, the brunette's eyes narrowed and she pointed to an en suite door. "Just don't dawdle. I am late enough as it is. There are spare towels in the cupboard under the sink if you must have a shower.''

"Thanks,'' Emma muttered and headed for the bathroom, trying to understand the faint blush she had glimpsed rising up Regina's neck.

By the time she emerged 15 minutes later, combing her fingers through a tangle of wet hair, the bed was precisely made and Regina was downstairs making breakfast for Henry, judging by the voices she could hear below.

Emma debated her options. Exit the way she'd entered? But it wasn't like she could pretend she hadn't been here - Henry had already seen her. And Regina had already told her the civilised used the front door.

She pulled on her jeans and boots, rolled up her sleeping bag and packed it and the pillow into her backpack.

Emma slung it over one shoulder and slowly headed downstairs, wondering how this world of awkward was going to play out.

She could see Henry sitting at a counter, munching on cereal and talking about a spelling test when she stuck her head in. Regina's eye caught hers and for a moment they just stared at each other.

"Miss Swan, a word if you please?'' Regina said coolly, and walked past her towards the door. She pulled the gray silk robe Emma had seen her wearing last night more closely around herself.

The sheriff followed obediently.

Regina unlocked the front door and opened it, peering out into the early light as if trying to gather her thoughts. She leaned for a moment against the frame. Without turning back to Emma she began to speak softly.

"About what happened last night...''

Emma waited.

"I...''

The blonde silently adjusted her pack on her shoulder. It was feeling heavy. Regina's eyes were still fixed on the distance. The sheriff studied her for a moment and felt ridiculously pleased to see the darkness and lines she had seen yesterday were less obvious. At some point she had truly gotten restful sleep.

"It...'' Regina's breath hitched and shoulders sagged.

_This was getting painful._

"Look, Regina, nothing happened, OK? I just crashed here and you kindly shared the bed. You can tell Henry that and I'll back you up. OK I have to go - Mary Margaret will be sending out a search party if I don't make an appearance at some point this morning.''

"Uh... yes.''

Emma waited a beat but the confusion on the mayor's face told her there'd be no more coherent comments, so she simply turned to walk through the door.

A hand reached out and latched onto her arm as she passed, spinning her around to face the brunette.

"I'm sorry.''

"What for?'' Emma asked, perplexed.

Fingers rose to her cheek and delicately brushed against a spot. Emma winced._ Shit. That hurt._ The blonde frowned. _Oh, right. Regina had belted her last night._

"S'OK. I can barely feel it,'' she lied, and Regina's eye caught hers knowingly.

There was a question there.

"Of course I won't tell anyone. Hell I am pretty clumsy, right?'' Emma gave a lopsided grin.

Regina offered the faintest hint of a twitch around her mouth. "That must be it,'' she whispered. Her hand dropped but she did not step away from Emma's personal space.

The blonde smiled then, a brilliant smile. She couldn't help it. It was quite possibly the first time since she'd known her that the mayor hadn't exploited such an easy opportunity to insult the crap out of her.

The mayor seemed faintly startled by the transformation, her eyes widening. Emma grinned again.

"I'd better ah...'' she glanced outside, and jerked her thumb towards the street, "Hit the road. You know.''

"Of course, Miss Swan. And I appreciate your ... assistance last night.''

"Any time.'' Emma gave her a pointed look. She needed her to _know_ that was true.

Regina's eyes seemed warmer as they regarded her for a long beat. Melted chocolate instead of the contempt Emma had become so used to lately.

The blonde swallowed. "I mean that,'' she added redundantly. She shifted her backpack again - _hell, it suddenly felt like it weighed a ton_ - and the mayor finally seemed to realise she was keeping her.

"Good day, Miss Swan,'' she said formally. "Try not to hit any street signs on the way home.''

Emma chuckled. The insult was light. Familiar.

_Back to an old faithful, hmm? _She smirked as she headed down the path feeling strangely freer. _Almost like old times._

She shook her head at herself. _Except it wasn't, was it?_

But she'd take it.

She heard the door snick softly shut behind her.


	16. Chapter 16

**THE STAIRCASE**  
**By Red Charcoal**

**************Warnings: **Non-consensual sex references. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

**Chapter 16: QUESTIONS**

.

Regina watched Emma go and tried to swallow her conflicted feelings washing through her. She had been momentarily taken aback when the blonde had smiled at her, and her whole face had lit up like a sunrise. For a second she had forgotten she was supposed to hate her for everything she represented.

Instead she had simply stared stupidly.

Regina leaned against the door frame, watching the figure head towards that ridiculously yellow car. It had been so, so hard to ask her to come over. She had gone as long as she could before finally her own sleep deprivation had meant she had no reserves left to stop herself from making the request. Asking an enemy for a favour.

She fought herself every minute and had kept Emma standing there for an hour while she tried to spit out the request. The blonde hadn't complained once. And now it was done.

Regina sighed. The truth was she _did_ feel better - despite another nightmare and very sore knuckles.

She winced. Emma's face would be a mess by the end of the day. Yet she didn't even seem bothered. She shivered as she remembered a sliver of that hellish dream, and wondered how long she'd be burdened by them.

Would she be cursed to live that revolting marriage forever?

"Moommm?''

Regina was startled out of her reverie and padded back to the kitchen.

"Yes?'' she answered flatly as she picked up her son's empty cereal bowl and headed for the sink. He was sitting at the table with a troubled look on his face. She braced herself for The Question.

"Gonna be late for school," he mumbled, staring at his hands.

She relaxed her shoulders. _OK, so maybe The Question was not happening after all. _"I'll just run upstairs and change and drive you,'' she said lightly, running water over the dishes to quickly rinse them.

"Mom?" Henry began again, with a deeper frown. "Why was Emma in your bed?"

_And there it was._

Regina turned slowly. She felt a bolt of adrenalin and anxiety flash through her body. Her fear must have been showing so she quickly schooled her features.

"I...''

"Is it to help you sleep? Was it Dr Hopper's idea? He told me I could sleep with Mr Bear if I had nightmares and it would help. He was right."

"You're having trouble sleeping, too?'' the brunette answered in surprise, thinking of the old battered bear her son used to love. She hadn't seen it in a year. "Why didn't you tell me? We could have talked about it."

"I'm not, but I remembered what Dr Hopper said. But _you _never talk about it when you don't sleep," he replied, eyes wide and earnest.

"Henry..."

"You don't!'' he said and folded his arms on the table. "But I think I get it now. The Leopold monster's real bad. Like _evil _bad. And you needed the saviour to help fight it! Right? Just having her there would scare him off!"

Regina stared open-mouthed at her son's typically good vs evil leap of logic. Her irritation at his bringing up Emma's fanciful white-hat title was heavily outweighed by the fact his earnest intentions were written all over his face.

_And the fact he was right._

She thinned her lips as she thought of an appropriate answer. Her mind whirred. At least he hadn't leapt to the conclusion any _adult _walking in on them might have reached.

"She just needed a place to stay last night and I thought I'd share my..."

Henry's sceptical expression and mouth dropping open brought her up cold. _It was true. She never shared anything with anyone except him. Henry would never buy her sharing her bed with Emma Swan out of selfless reasons._

"Fine," she rolled her eyes. "You're right. We're trying Dr Hopper's treatment. Miss Swan is good at scaring off bad dreams. We hope it will work."

She looked at him sideways, unsure what he would make of her finally admitting she needed help.

The sudden smile that crossed his face was almost blinding and an exact replica of his mother's. Regina realised she hadn't seen one like it on him in years.

A small hand reached for hers and gave it a squeeze. "Thanks for telling me the truth, Mom. I hope Dr Hopper's treatment works, too. Now come on, I'm gonna be late!"

He leapt instantly off his chair and raced past her to find his backpack. Regina watched the whirlwind in surprise.

_Discussion over, it seemed._

She walked slowly upstairs to her room and opened the door. She passed her neatly made bed, remembering the insane panic with which she had made it, trying to calm her racing thoughts. Thoughts that were all about Emma. The pleasant way Regina had woken up and the feel of smooth skin beneath her fingers. She reddened as she recalled the way her body had arched into it, wanting more of that irresistible softness before she had swum up to complete consciousness.

The brunette selected an outfit and lay it on the bed, and went to her dresser drawer for lingerie. As she leant forward, close to the bed, she realised she could still smell Emma's unique scent. She paused, allowing her nostrils to take it in and decided she quite liked it. Well, considerably more than 'quite', if she was being honest.

A smile curved her lips subconsciously as she recalled the memory of her own fingers tracing the sheriff's skin. Her fingertips were trembling by the time she lifted her black panties from the drawer and slipped them up her bare legs.

She heard Henry calling from downstairs and quickly slid on the rest of her clothes. Pale grey slacks, and a blue blouse. Three buttons undone. She leaned against the wall as she stepped into her heels.

As she shut the door to the bedroom, Regina instantly missed the smell and those ... _other_... sweet memories. It was a stark contrast to all her other mornings which had begun bleeding into one, where she was always desperate to be gone from the place she now associated with pain, fear and insomnia.

_Maybe Henry was right,_a small thought whispered, slipping around her head before she could stop it.

_Maybe Emma really could chase away her monsters._


	17. Chapter 17

**THE STAIRCASE**  
**By Red Charcoal**

**************Warnings: **Non-consensual sex references. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

**Chapter 17: ROUTINE INTERRUPTED  
**

.

Regina and Emma had fallen into a routine. Regina would try for a few days to sleep without the blonde before eventually giving up and texting her. Usually the text only had a word in it: Now.

And within ten minutes the blonde would be crawling up Regina's balcony. Not that she had to skulk about now Henry knew about her visits, but Emma found it habit forming. Besides, she reasoned, it saved forcing the brunette down the stairs in the cold.

In the morning she would sometimes stay for breakfast with Henry who seemed to think there was nothing in the slightest odd about the sleeping arrangements of his two mothers. He would chatter away about nothing much while Emma tried not to yawn and Regina slid eggs (just the way she liked them), onto her well-buttered white toast.

On rare occasions, at certain times of the month when the mayor was at her most fragile - Emma didn't have to ponder too hard to work out why, being female herself - Regina would call her over a little earlier ostensibly to discuss some "sheriff's department matter". But truthfully the mayor seemed to enjoy getting some late-night paperwork done while Emma lay full-length and put her woolly-socked feet up on the mayor's fancy couch and chatted about the usual oddities of her day policing Storybrooke.

The only time their almost easy banter had been interrupted was when the blonde had once wandered over to the brunette's desk and promptly sat on the corner of it, and noticed a strange folder. She had paused mid-conversation as she read the name upside down and Regina had looked up sharply and then immediately pushed it out of sight. She had then coldly ordered Emma back to her lounging spot, with a bark and a finger jabbing point.

_Apparently the pets weren't allowed off the leash_, Emma had thought sourly.

But that had been a rare, odd break in their increasingly amicable routine.

Their nights were always the same, though. Initially they had gone through the pretense of Emma unfurling her sleeping bag, patting down the pillows, as Regina slipped into bed and watched her while pretending she wasn't. And they would mutter good nights and try to sleep. Until, inevitably, a nightmare would terrify the mayor and Emma would be in bed beside her, soothing her trembling body back to sleep, holding her gently through her thin blue nightie.

By morning, the sun's light filtering stripes across the messy bedding, they would wake up in a tangle of soft limbs. They never commented on it, of course.

Emma would note the soft blush on the brunette's face as another extrication process began. She also couldn't help but notice that the time spent unhooking from each other was taking progressively longer. Almost as if the brunette was reluctant to let go of her deliciously warm sleeping companion.

Not that they'd ever discussed that either. _Oh hell no._

The ritual had changed about a month ago. Emma was going through the science of unrolling her bedding when Regina had simply cleared her throat and flipped back the covers beside her and pointed.

Emma had frozen and stared for a long beat until Regina had rolled her eyes.

"Try not to think _too_ hard, dear, you might hurt something,'' came the low drawl. "And hurry up, it's cold. Don't make me regret this.''

Emma had quickly slid under the covers with a relieved sigh. She'd never admit it but the floor-sleeping routine was killing her back and hips.

On the evenings since Emma had begun joining the mayor in her large comfortable bed the blonde had noticed a change in the other woman.

She had begun sleeping the whole way through the night.

And that suited Emma perfectly. After all, it wasn't just Regina who had been suffering from lack of sleep due to her nightmares.

The blonde had lost count the number of times she had headed home, gritty eyed (but well fed), to snatch a jolting tall mug of coffee out of her knowing roommate's hands.

That was another thing that never got discussed. Emma's insane nocturnal routine.

Mary Margaret knew enough of what had happened not to suspect the sheriff and the mayor were engaged in sexual hijinks, but it didn't stop _the looks._

And it turned out she knew a lot more than Emma realised when one morning she stopped Emma with a hand on her elbow.

With a hint of an arched eyebrow she said: "So - I have to ask. Is she sleeping any better?''

The blonde's mouth fell open.

"Henry told me,'' she continued. "Bad nightmares. Someone called Leopold keeps attacking her.''

She let that fall into the air between them as Emma cautiously sipped on her coffee, watching her through hooded eyes. Neither confirming nor denying.

"Thanks to Henry, I know the attack dreams began around the time you and Regina initially had your, er, problems," Mary Margaret continued. "I am guessing the two events are related in some way, to make such nightmares surface like that."

Emma scowled and sucked in another sip of coffee. _Hell the woman was perceptive._

"So, Emma, and you don't have to answer this, but it seems fairly likely _you_ also ... attacked her. You attacked Regina Mills. And probably not just in a violent way, because the mayor wouldn't be this affected if it was just a straightforward physical assault." The words, spoken so softly, but with conviction, jolted the blonde to her core.

She choked on her coffee, green eyes flying wide with panic.

Mary Margaret looked at her sadly, as if having her suspicions confirmed, and continued.

"Sidney tricked you didn't he? Tricked you into acting on your infatuation with the mayor."

Emma made a strangled noise. The brunette's hand flew up to stop the blonde's half-formed denial/protest/lie/whatever the hell it was she had planned on doing.

"_Please_. I don't want to hear you lie to me because you promised her you would not tell. But I am no fool. You need to know that I know. And I am here if you want to talk."

Emma clamped her mouth shut again, twisting her lips.

"You go there each night because you feel guilty - and responsible - for the awful dreams surfacing."

She didn't say it as a question. But it was so close to accurate, Emma found herself giving a small half nod. She sighed at herself.

"And it would be safe to assume the nightmares she had are also," Mary Margaret looked pained and paused, "not merely straightforward violent attacks either."

Emma shuddered as the horror of all of it surfaced again. She put down her mug and flattened her hand against the counter to stop it from trembling.

Mary Margaret regarded her kindly, eye flicking from the hand back to Emma's tortured face.

"I understand why you go over there, Emma, and I wouldn't push this or breach your privacy like this if it wasn't for the fact I am also very worried about these..." Delicate fingers lifted to her face and traced dark circles under her eyes.

"When will you get to sleep again? A _real_ restful sleep," she asked softly before letting her hand fall.

Emma shook her head. "Doesn't matter," she said gruffly. "As long as she needs me, I'll be there. Least I can do."

Mary Margaret seemed to think about that for awhile.

"OK. Will you at least tell me how he did it? Sidney I mean. How could he trick someone as smart as you? And how did you figure out it was him? I have wanted to know for the longest time but... you know. _Oh Em!_"

Emma realised when Mary Margaret exclaimed that she was suddenly trembling and ... as the teacher's small hand flew to her face again and came away wet ... she was also crying.

Arms suddenly enfolded themselves around her and Emma felt the crushing weight of everything that had happened surround her, engulf her.

She was crying and crying and she felt ridiculous but as hard as she tried, she simply couldn't stop. And before she knew it, in great gulping sobs, it all came out, _everything_.

Right down to the way she trapped Sidney. And the look on his face when she held up the recorder. How it felt _such_ a relief. And then the humiliation of playing it before Regina and the mayor hearing her secret, eyes black and glittering. All the while a small hand patted her on the back in what was a strangely maternal - and very comforting - gesture.

As the blonde finally pulled away she noticed a tiny frown knitting Mary Margaret's eyebrows.

Emma felt a wave of fear. _Had she finally disgusted her roommate to the point she no longer wanted to speak to her?_

She swallowed. "Mary Marg..." she began.

"I don't get one thing," Mary Margaret interrupted snapping her face upwards to pin Emma with a penetrating look.

"What?'' Emma asked in alarm.

"If Sidney had Regina's cellphone - why did he send a text to it to say the backup was finished?"

Emma fell silent and stared.

Mary Margaret stared back.

"I ...uh ... don't know." She sucked her mouth in her bottom lip.

"I mean," the brunette continued, "it's how you caught him. I mean goodness," she gave a sharp laugh. "It's almost like he wanted you to catch him."

She stopped laughing as a growing sense of dread filled her voice. "Why _was _that? And does Regina know? I mean this wasn't something they did togeth ... uh... no. That makes no sense either."

Emma was gaping at the teacher now as increasingly paranoid scenarios were racing to the bottom of her mind. _Had Sidney wanted to get caught? Had he set her up twice?!_

_And as for Regina... He was her faithful employee. What did it mean?_

"Sorry," the teacher shrugged. "It probably doesn't mean anything. I mean maybe he forgot. Did it by rote."

"Sidney is a careful and fastidious man," Emma scowled. "Nothing escapes his attention. Just like Regi..."

She stopped. A vision of the folder she had seen on Regina's desk that had caused her to bark at her came to mind.

The name on it. _Glass_.

_What was it even doing there?_ She had seen it contained a bunch of letters, before the mayor had snapped it shut. They had a fancy logo on them. _Fuck_. _They were from his jail._

_Regina had been corresponding with Sidney Glass._

_FUCK._

Mary Margaret's eyes went wide.

_Oh. She'd said that out loud._

"Sorry," Emma muttered. "I need to investigate something."

"Em, what is it?"

"Nothing. Hopefully nothing at all." With that she grabbed her coat and prepared to head back to the mayor's home.

And she found herself praying it really _was_ nothing at all.


	18. Chapter 18

**THE STAIRCASE**  
**By Red Charcoal**

**************Warnings: **Non-consensual sex references. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

**CHAPTER 18 – FILED UNDER G**

.

Emma strode towards Regina's study and tried not to think about the fact she was breaking and entering. Actually, she rationalised to herself, if the mayor had already told her where the spare key was two months ago (so she wouldn't have to climb up the balcony), technically she _had_ permission. Except, she mused as she entered the austere and neatly ordered room, she knew she had nothing of the sort.

But hell, she needed to know if she was being played in some seriously sick scheme.

She looked through the stack of folders on the mayor's desk but couldn't find the one she'd seen the night Regina had turned instantly frosty and hid it away.

Emma sighed. _Of course it wouldn't be that easy._

She headed for the filing cabinet. Locked. She examined the mechanism closely and realised that wouldn't prove too great a hurdle. In less than a minute and one bent out of shape paperclip later, she slid it open.

She found it immediately, filed under G.

Emma lifted the folder on top of the cabinet and leafed through. Letter after letter from Sidney Glass. She stopped and read one at random. It was virtually vibrating with his trademark adoration for her.

Sidney was thanking her profusely for her last letter and her interest in his wellbeing. He appreciated the luxury items she had included. Emma stopped and scowled. _Why the fuck was Regina sending that scum gifts?_

She read on. He would answer her queries soon but had to go now. He wanted her to know he appreciated her planned entreaties for his early release.

_Early release? He had only just gone in! What the hell was this crap?_

A car slam outside distracted her and Emma quickly threw the letter into the folder and slid it back in the filing cabinet. She heard the door to mansion click open and Regina's unmistakeable clack of footsteps.

_Shit. She was supposed to be at work. _Emma dropped to her knees and scrambled under the desk and held her breath. The footsteps approached the room and paused. Emma waited, heart in her mouth, and then heard the sound of papers being plucked off the desk. Emma got an impressive up-close view of those perfect patented leather black heels as she stood in front of the desk, reading whatever she'd come back for.

Finally, the shoes turned and left and Emma exhaled. After a few moments she heard the front door shut and footsteps recede down the path.

Emma leapt up and padded to the hallway peering out. When she saw the black Merc leave she swiftly followed, locking up behind her and returning the house key to its hiding spot. She was relieved she'd thought to park her bug half a block away.

The blonde drove home in silence, unable to bear the thought of turning on the radio. Her mind was an absolute jumble. If Regina and Sidney were still on the same side, what the hell had happened six months ago? There was no way the mayor's terror wasn't real. The trembling. The anxiety. Emma couldn't imagine anyone being so accomplished an actress. And she knew pain when she saw it.

She pushed that conundrum aside and tried to think of it from another angle. What was the end goal of Sidney's text? If it had been Regina and Sidney's joint plan to drive her out of town through guilt, then why had Regina told her to stay?

She ground her molars, perplexed. To her surprise she found herself driving straight past the sheriff's office and on to Mary Margaret's place. She parked and sat for a few moments trying to gather her thoughts. She was too unfocused to work, her mind screaming at her over the revelations in that file. She pulled out her cellphone and when Ruby answered her fumbled dial, curtly asked her to cover her for the rest of the day.

"Flu," she explained unconvincingly.

"But you seemed fine yesterday."

"Came on suddenly."

"Uh huh."

She clicked the phone off. She didn't care what Ruby thought anyway right now.

With a heavy sigh she trudged up the stairs again, passing Mary Margaret on her way to work.

They paused awkwardly, each well aware this was not the place for continuing their earlier conversation.

"Did you, ah, find what you were looking for?" the teacher asked, eyeing her worriedly.

"In a way," the blonde replied, thinning her lips. "It also just raised a helluva lot more questions."

"What are you going to do now?"

"I think," Emma said slowly, frowning as her fingers rubbed at the flakey paint on the stairwell railing, "It might be time to stop dancing to the mayor's tune. And try and figure all this out. Because it's confusing as hell."

"Well anything that means you finally get a few decent nights' sleep in your own bed sounds like a pretty good plan to me," the brunette said with a reassuring smile. "Look, I've got to go, but I left some coffee out for you just in case you came back."

Emma attempted a grin and a wave as the woman continued past her down the stairs, but it soon fell from the edges of her lips the moment she looked away.

Meanwhile, her brain screamed. _What the freaking hell was going on?_

. . . .

When the first "NOW" demand from Regina arrived via text at eleven that night, Emma simply ignored it. She'd already had a thoroughly sucky day ripping apart possible motives and theories in her mind and nothing fit. Nothing worked. The only way the scenarios fit together would be if Regina had succeeded in drumming her out of town. But she had asked her to stay and so Emma had tossed and turned in bed thoroughly confused, and ignoring the growing number of texts piling up on her phone.

Finally she turned the gadget off entirely and rolled over and pushed her face into the pillow. It was a troubled sleep that followed, filled with visions of a crying Regina and scared, wide-eyed Sidney. So much did not add up.

She awoke late, grouchy and seriously unimpressed with life. She turned on her cellphone and was still rubbing sleep out of her eyes when it sprang to life, virtually leaping all over her bed, with 24 missed texts and calls.

She scrolled down them. Mostly from Regina, ranging from questioning to terse to questioning her wellbeing … Emma's eyebrows rose … then back to terse and finally angry and resentful.

The phone jangled in her hands and she peered at the screen. She recognised the number and stabbed the answer button.

"Em? Shit it's Ruby, where the hell have you been? The mayor's having kittens trying to find you."

"Hey Rubes. Well the mayor can get over herself because her _employee_ has been otherwise engaged."

There was a long silence followed by a deep sucking in of air. "Really, Em, that's the way you're playing this? Cos a few weeks ago you'd have given your back teeth to have Her Mayoral Broodiness crawling all over you for your attention like this."

"Rubes, enough. Is that all you rang about?"

"No, geez, take a chill pill, hon. I was wondering if you were planning on coming in today? Or if your 'flu' was still, ah, raging."

"It's still raging," Emma ground out. She had a thought. "Well,unless you need for me to be fine again? Are you coping OK?"

"Oh no it's great. Quite like being the boss lady for once!" the other woman cackled. "Well except when it involves the mayor storming in here first thing demanding to know where you are. God you must have done a number on her cos she looked like she'd been up all night. She was a complete mess."

"The mayor's condition doesn't concern me, Rubes. That's everything?"

"Sheeyah right. She's all you've been moping about these last six months. But if that's the way you wanna play it. So what do I do if she comes back?"

"Tell her what I told you. I have the flu."

"Gotcha. Ooh and if you need to stay away for the rest of the week, that's cool too – I could use the overtime. Granny's birthday is next week. She has her eye on some new celebrity chef pot set she saw on TV. Expensive things, though. Copper bottoms."

"Mmm. I'll let you know, Rubes. 'Kay, thanks."

"Welcome."

The phone clunked dead. _Regina looked dreadful?_ Emma tried to quash the painful stab of guilt she felt.

Then the memories of the previous day came flooding back, and she felt her irritation rise as she recalled the grateful, fawning letter – one of so many in that file. It enraged her all over again.

Her phone rang once more and she glanced at the caller ID. _Speak of the devil._ She let it ring for a bit to make Regina wonder, and then switched it off.

_Play me? I forfeit the game_, she growled to herself. She flopped back in bed and tried for the fiftieth time to make sense of the madness of Sidney and Regina.

* * *

After three days of having the 'flu' and not answering a single one of Regina's calls, Emma had finally reached a conclusion. She decided the reason she could not make sense of the letters was because they _made no sense_. The raw edge to her anger had faded and this time when she switched on her phone, she actually read the texts from the woman whose bed she had shared for more than a month.

There were angry texts. Puzzled texts. Emotional texts – citing Henry's confusion over her absence. (God forbid Regina herself would admit needing Emma.) And more angry texts. One vowed she was done with her. The next stated she would deign to give her another chance.

None of them aligned with someone playing games with her. She sounded like an unravelling woman in desperate need of sleep. And so it was when her phone buzzed the next time and the mayor's ID appeared, Emma exhaled sharply and pressed a different button.

"Miss Swan…" came an almost startled voice. "You answered."

"Obviously," Emma replied curtly.

There was another silence as the mayor appeared to digest that.

"Have I angered you in some way?" the tone sounded almost … hurt. Emma's eyebrows skidded skywards. _This was a first._

Emma gave a slightly derisive laugh.

"What do you want from me Regina?" _If that wasn't the million-dollar question._

"You already know what I want, my dear. Now _I_ want to know why you have been so rudely ignoring me these past three days. You don't sound sick in the slightest, regardless of what you told your deputy to tell me. And Henry was concerned."

Emma almost rolled her eyes. "Only Henry?" she asked dryly. "Figures."

"Oh I see, dear, why didn't you just say? This is some ploy for my attention? For me to tell you I missed your presence? I didn't realise you were acting my son's age. But fine, yes, your absence has been noted. By _both_ of us. All better now?" The insincere sneer was hard to miss.

Emma stared at her phone in disbelief.

"I do not require patting on the head like a ten year old. And when it comes to ploys, _you_ should talk."

"What on earth does that mean?"

_God, she almost sounded wounded._ Emma shook her head. _The gall._

"When were you going to tell me you and Sidney are adorable pen pals? Such a cosy friendship you have for someone you helped send to jail. Have you both been playing me?"

There was hard, ragged breathing for a good ten seconds until finally Emma heard in a low, anguished voice: "Meet me at home. Now."

The phone went dead.

Emma briefly considered disobeying purely for the perverse satisfaction of not doing whatever Regina demanded. But even as the thought entered her head she discovered she was already pulling on her boots and reaching for her jacket and car keys.

_As if she would say no. _Besides, it wasn't hard to notice Regina's ragged, emotional voice was not that of someone whose nefarious scheme had just been exposed.

Well one way or another she was finally going to get to the bottom of this.


	19. Chapter 19

**THE STAIRCASE** **By Red Charcoal**

**************Warnings: **Non-consensual sex references. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

**CHAPTER 19 – UNDERSTANDING TOO LITTLE, TOO MUCH**

.

Regina looked agitated, Emma noted, as she stood on the mansion's top steps observing the woman she had snubbed for three days. Her eyes were bloodshot. Ruby had not been exaggerating. Even now they flicked angrily over Emma's form and if she didn't know better, beyond the rage she could see relief at the sight of her.

"Well do come in, dear," came the sarcastic voice and Emma realised she'd been staring. "Although I note you clearly have no reluctance to make yourself at home. You abused your key privileges. Breaking and entering? Don't bother denying it. I found my filing cabinet unlocked."

She abruptly turned and walked towards her study and Emma followed her mutely, shoving fists into her red jacket. There was no point denying the obvious. And, besides, that's not what they were really fighting about and they both knew it.

Regina slid into the tall leather chair in her office and indicated with a wave a shorter one, opposite, as though Emma had simply stopped by for a business meeting. It was only the shaking of Regina's hands as she flipped open a now familiar manila folder laid out before her that gave her away.

"Tell me something, Miss Swan," she began with a low, dangerous tone. "Do you ever get tired of being this stupid?"

Emma crossed her arms and scowled darkly.

"Your assumptions keep getting you in trouble and making my life ever more miserable," Regina continued with a glare, then slapped open the folder. A stack of letters appeared.

"You know you could have just asked to see the contents of this," the mayor continued with a sour pull of her mouth.

"Yeah right. Like we ever have a normal conversation about _anything_."

Regina's movements stilled and her eyes narrowed.

"You have some nerve going on the offensive, my dear. _You_ are the common criminal in this little scenario."

"I am not the one consorting with the enemy," Emma retorted. "Sending that asshole gifts, trying to get him out early. What the hell is that about? Have you forgotten what he…"

Regina's flashing, enraged eyes stopped Emma instantly and the words died on her lips.

The mayor's head tilted back and a cold, mocking mask dropped over her face. "Have _I_ forgotten what he did?" she repeated sweetly. "Really, my dear. After all those nights seeing me wake up from HELL, you want to ask if I have _forgotten_? No. I haven't. Nor have I forgotten what _you_ did, dear. Which brings us back to your ever-growing list of crimes against intelligence."

Emma felt the familiar wash of humiliation and then felt instantly irritated all over again. Every time Regina wanted to win a point, all she had to do was invoke _that_. And Emma had no counter for it because there was none. She didn't expect Regina to ever forgive or forget, but to use what happened that awful day to score points meant they would never progress anywhere. They would just loop endlessly with recrimination and regrets. She sighed. _How had this conversation gotten so out of control? _

She tried to focus on what they were doing here.

"Look," the sheriff ground out, "Just tell me _why_. Why are you all cosy with Sidney Glass after what he did? And more importantly WHY are you helping that slimey weasel get out of jail early?"

She watched as fury flashed across Regina's tight face.

"I'm not," she growled. "I hope the little toad rots in there."

"But I read…"

"What I needed him to believe."

Emma fell silent. _Shit. It hadn't actually entered her head that Regina was playing Sidney, not the two playing her. And that's why nothing fit. _

_This wasn't even about her._

Emma felt completely stupid. Again.

"So you two didn't conspire together to…" Emma's brain processed aloud.

"Have me raped?" Regina supplied with a cold smile. "No, Miss Swan, oddly enough, we did NOT."

She flicked through the letters to the bottom of the folder and pulled one out and slid it over the desk.

"His first communication to me. As you can see from the date, it was written a week after he was incarcerated."

Emma read the letter, observing the angry strokes of the penmanship, the capital letters in various words, and the vicious, perfectly well-spelled ranting invective. There was clearly no love lost there.

"His vow to 'rage against you for eternity' clearly passed," Emma muttered and pushed the letter back to Regina. "What changed?"

The brunette looked at her mockingly.

"Surely, Sheriff, you have just enough brains to work that out for yourself?"

Emma's mind whirred and then she realised exactly who she was dealing with. A master manipulator. A politician.

"You. You played him. Groomed him to get him back to your side."

Regina gave a curt nod. "Obviously. I needed him willing and compliant."

"For what?" She leaned forward and bit her lip.

"I do not like loose ends, Miss Swan."

Emma frowned. Regina sighed impatiently and tapped her index finger sharply on the desk.

"I wanted to know _exactly_ why Glass wanted you to catch him out in his nasty scheme."

Emma's eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"Really, my dear, don't tell me this notion has only just occurred to you recently? So _that's _what this is all about now?"

A faint blush rose up Emma's neck. It was not helping that Regina was eyeing her as though she were particularly dim-witted.

"As soon as I heard your recording I realised the obvious flaw in your 'proof'," Regina said with a hint of derision. "Why would Glass text me when he had my phone in his custody? It was ridiculous. The man is not as foolish as he appears. And I know him extremely well. It stood out as being a deliberate choice."

"You never said anything," Emma whispered hoarsely, feeling like the world's biggest fool. Hell, she'd needed her own roommate to point the logic flaw out to her. _Some brilliant detective she was._

"It wasn't relevant at the time. _Who_ had set us up mattered more," Regina said tightly. "It only became of interest to me when I had time to think about it and it began irritating me not knowing everything."

"So did it work? Your … schmoozing. Did he tell you?"

Regina gave a sharp laugh. "Oh yes. Of course. He told me everything. Sung like a canary for the price of a few small luxuries and empty promises of early freedom. And it turns out, Miss Swan, that he didn't want you to catch him at all."

Emma frowned. "Huh?"

"He wanted _me_ to."

"What?!"

Regina rolled her eyes. "Look at it from his perspective. If his plan had worked the way he envisioned, I'd have kicked or guilted you out of Storybrooke the moment you appeared like a cat in heat on my door step. And, sooner or later, I would have checked my phone, found his message, and confronted Glass. He'd have then smugly confessed he was the clever mastermind in ridding me of my nemesis. And presumably I would be overcome with immense gratitude for him."

"And profess undying love for him?" Emma's mouth fixed into a grim line. "Some grand plan," she scowled.

Regina looked down at the folder. She continued, her voice faltering slightly. "But, as we know, Glass did not allow for your single-mindedness in responding to his text. Nor my … shock – rendering me unable to play my 'part' in the scheme."

Shame flooded Emma again. 'Single-mindedness' was quite the euphemism for ignoring the brunette's cries of no. She opened her mouth to apologise again.

"Don't you dare say that word again," Regina snapped, head jerking up. "I _know_ you're sorry. And I am tired of all of this. I just wanted my answers and then to move on and never think about it again."

Emma shook her head grimly. "I'd have left the bastard to rot if it was me. I want him to suffer, not feel good about himself, thinking that you like him again, even if it is all a lie."

"And that is the basic difference between us, my dear," Regina said, sliding the letter back inside the folder and slapping it shut. "You always think in such short-sighted terms. If you ever think at all. He will become aware of my true feelings when I deem it most advantageous. But you? You'd have just grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, given him a shake and demanded answers and got absolutely nothing out of him. You really are…"

Regina faded out and stared at her with _such_ a look. Emma blinked back at her, finally identifying the expression as _disappointment_. Her heart sank to her boots.

"Pathetic," Regina finally muttered and rose to put the folder back into the filing cabinet. "You are so linear. So caveman _basic_, dear. Response to stimuli only. No big-picture planning for you. Heaven forbid. It was a mistake to ever …"

"What?" Emma asked staring hard at the shapely back of the woman bent over the filing cabinet.

"It no longer matters. Anyway you have your answer. You can see there is no conspiracy. Although anyone with half a brain would have worked that out without needing the beginner's level walkthrough."

Emma ignored the insult and swallowed. "I was wrong. OK? And I'm ... _you know_. That word you hate. So where does this leave us?"

Regina turned and folded her arms, pinning her with cold eyes. "I believe I have already explained to you once that there is no 'us'. And even if I wanted to consider it, you have neatly demonstrated to me yet again why it's an absurd idea. You simply lack any understanding of me at all."

"And whose fault is that?" Emma asked, tilting her head.

"What?" Regina snapped.

"Perhaps I don't entirely understand you. Yes I made assumptions that were wrong, really freaking wrong, but there's a reason. It's because you never let anyone in. All of us have no choice but to guess what the fuck you're thinking cos you never tell us _anything_. All we ever get is Miss Enigmatic Mayor. Strike a pose, shoot a mysterious look, make an acerbic comment. Move on. Rinse and repeat.

"You said before I could have asked about the folder. That's a lie and you know it. You like keeping everyone in Storybrooke in the dark – it makes you feel powerful or something. But it won't help you find happiness or be less lonely or terrified at night. And you want to talk about truly stupid? How about the fact you won't even get help to treat the nightmares that are _torturing_ you. I don't mean talk to me, necessarily – but at least talk to Hopper or someone who can help."

Emma knew her tone had turned beseeching, but to hell with it. She'd seen enough of this woman's agony to last a lifetime. Her unwillingness to even admit aloud she _was_ in agony was so needless.

"I did talk to him," Regina spat back. "That little insect is perfectly _useless_. And who I do or do not consult in this matter is none of your concern."

"Says the woman who wakes up trembling in my arms at night."

"An arrangement I'd be more than happy to discontinue."

"An arrangement you are so desperate to continue you left me two dozen text messages when I didn't return your calls for just three days."

"An arrangement I would not need to _be_ in if you hadn't violated me."

They were so close, their eyes flashing. Emma wasn't sure how they'd gotten this close. One minute Regina had been standing by the filing cabinet, spitting invective and shooting off sparks. The next … Emma stepped right inside Regina's space. She was close enough that she could smell her perfume. See the tiny beads of sweat at her temple and watch the flutter of a racing pulse at her neck.

"I said I was sorry," Emma whispered. She finally lowered her eyes and admitted in defeat: "You do know how dysfunctional and co-dependent this shit is, right? Needing to be with the one who hates us? Or, in your case, needing the one you hate?"

Regina swallowed and her shoulders slumped a fraction. Finally she admitted: "I do actually know that, dear, thank you. You think I want to… need _you_?"

"Regina," Emma hissed leaning forward until their foreheads were virtually resting against each other and their breaths were mingling. "You think I want to be treated like your trained poodle that you just say one word to and I drop everything and scamper over to you in the middle of the night because I am just so fucking grateful to be of use to you? That I don't care about anything? Even my own dignity? Like if my back aches from sleeping on your floor? Or if I haven't had a decent night's sleep for five and a half months? But none of it matters cos you've texted one insulting little word demanding my presence and that's enough for me."

"Miss Swan," Regina exhaled heavily, eyes squeezing closed. "Do you think _I_ like knowing you only stay with me because it assuages your deep well of guilt? You think I don't notice how exhausted you are at breakfast? That it's all you can do to keep your eyes open? That you couldn't remember Henry's name last week? You actually tried three times before giving up. He asked me later who 'Harold' was."

Emma grimaced and finally inched near the elephant in the room. "Do you think I like that you snuggle me when you're asleep and then pretend when you wake that_ I_ was the one who wrapped myself around you? The way you act like _I'm_ the one being overly-familiar? Like I won't remember it was _your_ fingers mapping out my boobs a minute before?"

Regina closed her eyes and whispered. "Do you think I like _liking_ your body being wrapped around mine? A woman I am supposed to hate, who barged into my life and my son's life and who hurt me in ways I never … I … I am not supposed to want _you_ like that. I _hate_ that I do." Her voice broke. "Can you understand how hard that is for me? I _hate_ that I like you like that." A tear slipped from her tightly clenched eyelids. "It's _so_ wrong." Her voice trembled.

"God, Regina," Emma sighed. She leaned forward the last tiny bit, closing the gap and softly kissed her, then also kissed the tear away. She pulled apart after less than a second, half expecting to be pushed away. Instead Regina's eyes flashed open and she reached out, grabbing a fistful of blonde hair and pushed their mouths back together. Her tongue demanded entry and Emma unhesitatingly gave it.

Regina pressed Emma against the wall and was kissing her hungrily, her hands everywhere and the startled blonde felt arousal course through her. But her mind was screaming enough warnings for her to slow things down and she quickly snapped her head to one side to break the kiss.

Undaunted the mayor was nibbling up the side of her neck, sucking on her skin, making a dark mark. Claiming her.

"Regina, we should stop," Emma began urgently. "I-we… hell, we both gave enough reasons just now as to why this is a bad idea. Dysfunctional, remember? Co-dependent? _Fucked up_?"

The lips nibbled their way up Emma's chin, back towards her mouth.

"And you won't thank me later," she tried again. "You may even say I somehow got you caught up into something you never wanted. And, seriously, I couldn't go through that hell ever again."

Regina pulled away and her fiery eyes trapped Emma's. The blonde could see passion, desire and so much more.

"I want this, Miss Swan. _There_, it's on the record. So can we move on?" Lips were nibbling again and it was becoming harder for Emma to think straight.

"But I…"

Regina pulled away again with an impatient sigh. "Unless you're saying you don't? In which case, consider me very confused indeed, Miss Swan." Regina waited a beat and then her lips returned to her earlobe.

"I… you know I do. I have never hidden how I felt. But please… oh god… yes… I … _there_ … how can we ever have a real relationship when this is so messed up? We have so much baggage. Oh! _Goddd_."

"Miss Swan, who said anything about a real relationship?" The lips left her skin and Emma mourned their loss. "I thought we both merely had an itch that desperately needs scratching before we immolate from this unhealthy level of tension. And I, for one, am very goal oriented." She gave a low, sexy laugh that made Emma's knees want to buckle. There was a white flash of perfect teeth and an amused curve of lips.

To illustrate her point Emma felt fingertips scratching across her nipples, from hands that had somehow wormed themselves under her tanktop.

"You're killing me. Killing me," she heard herself mutter from what seemed far away.

"Mmm, my dear," the brunette murmured approvingly, dropping back to nuzzle Emma's neck. "I had rather hoped so."

"I mean, we can't. Not just for some quick thrills we probably won't even talk about tomorrow. Regina, I want to be in a real, equal partnership with you. Where we don't just share a bed, we share our bodies and… _ohhh_…. And our minds, and our thoughts and all that other stuff. You know, real stuff. OK, I know I haven't done that before but I want to with you."

"I just explained that I don't do relationships, Miss Swan," came an amused hum somewhere south of her clavicle. She felt fingers dropping to the button on her jeans. The sound of her zipper sliding down filled her ears. "And besides, even if I did relationships," the voice continued, muffled against the cloth between her breasts, "I wouldn't with you. We're not even friends." Fingers slipped inside her jeans and began to descend down the outside of her cotton boyshorts. The blonde felt her wetness magnify a thousand fold. Those long questing fingers were so close…

Then Regina's words seeped into her brain.

Emma froze and latched onto the wrist worming down her pants. She swallowed.

"Stop. Regina, just stop."

The brunette paused, blowing hair out of her eyes and looking up impatiently. "What is it now?"

"I need you like air, I do. But not at any cost. We have to stop."

"I thought this was what you wanted?" Regina asked in genuine confusion. "And don't tell me you don't. All those mornings, tell me you didn't think of me doing this to you." Her fingers wiggled against Emma's core, through her panties, and the blonde hissed at the erotic sensation. Regina gave a seductive smile. "Did you know I could always smell your arousal? And the top of my thigh didn't get wet all by itself, my dear."

Emma felt her entire face flame red. She hadn't realised she was so obvious.

"I have to go," she muttered and jerked the other woman's hand out of her pants. "Regina, this – like _this_ – isn't the way I want it. You doing me up against the wall like I'm an easy screw? Is that what you think of me? God – no, don't answer that."

Regina watched Emma turn away as she tucked in her tanktop and zipped up her jeans.

"You don't understand. I could _never_ do a relationship," the mayor repeated numbly as if that explained everything.

"You've made that clear. Maybe I give off the wrong vibe or something, but I don't have sex with people who don't consider me even a friend. By the way, I had thought we were. You know?" her voice broke, "despite it all, maybe because of it all - I really _had_ thought we were friends now."

Regina's eyes narrowed. Lipstick was smudged down her face, her lips grimly pressed together.

"You make so many foolish mistakes, don't you dear. We'll just add this latest assumption to the list, like the appalling one you made that brought you over here today," the brunette said coldly. "And you are very wrong. We could _never_ be friends. How could I and someone like you ever be friends?"

Emma sighed. "It's probably best if you don't text me tonight. I really do love you, Regina," she added softly. "Enough to say no to this." She waved her hand between them and glancing significantly at the wall she'd just been almost ravished against.

The mayor gave a derisive snort and crossed her arms. "I cannot give you the alternative. Ever."

Emma took in Regina's angry face, willing herself to think of the perfect comeback. Willing herself not to break down and reveal she was as unworthy and rejected as she felt. She paused. _As rejected as Regina also appeared._

As she looked at the brunette_, really looked_, in a blinding flash she finally understood. She sucked in a breath, earning a questioning eyebrow tilt from the other woman.

It was just like the letters from Sidney. _This wasn't even about her._

She reached over to the brunette, watching Regina's nostrils flare at the intrusion, and trailed fingertips down her cheek softly. The mayor blinked at her uncertainly.

Emma stared into the dark, brown eyes in front of her and asked in a sad whisper: "Who did this to you?"

She felt rather than saw the flinch and didn't wait for an answer, didn't want to see the crushed expression or hear the denials or witness a barely mustered flash of defiance. She knew she was right.

In more ways than she cared to admit, she _finally_ understood Regina.

Emma let her hand drop and turned and walked to the door. She did not look back, knowing Regina would be staring numbly after her. Furious at being exposed.

And now hating her for understanding her far _too_ well.

_Oh, the irony._


	20. Chapter 20

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By Red Charcoal**

******************Warnings: **Non-consensual sex references. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

**CHAPTER 20: BROKEN  
**

Dr Archie Hopper viewed the woman seated across from him at his desk, her fingers drumming viciously on the oak surface.

"Well?'' she demanded. "Are you going to help or not? What can you even do anyway? Let me guess - prescribe sedatives, I suppose? Or will you suggest 'hypnosis'?'' She put derisive finger quote marks in the air around the last word and leaned forward as if inspecting his soul. She stared at him closely for a beat and then leaned back again as though she found said soul sorely wanting.

Regina Mills had never been the most pleasant person Archie Hopper had ever met, and he had met a few of those in his profession. Nor was she the easiest to deal with, especially when she was in a mood. But she was definitely the most tortured person he'd ever met and the one most in denial about it. And for that reason he considered it a minor miracle she was even in his office at all today. He was still trying to get to the bottom of which straw that broke the camel's back had driven her in here.

But she kept evading the topic.

"In good time we will examine all the options available,'' he said soothingly. "But first, when you say you can't sleep without help, but the help you had you'd 'Rather not call on again even if it was a choice between that and a fiery pit in Hell', to what are you referring? Surely if you found an effective solution for your insomnia, you should stick with it?''

Regina's eyes narrowed dangerously and Archie had to will himself not to arch his head back from the sheer force of menace she was suddenly shooting his way.

"That is no longer possible. I will not permit myself to, to... go through that again.''

"Through what?'' he asked, confused. "Just explain - how have you been so effectively getting yourself to sleep prior to this week?''

"None of your business, Doctor,'' Regina snarled and leaned forward. "And it wasn't an 'effective solution' anyway because the nightmares still persisted. Now are you going to help me find a substitute for her or not!''

"_Her?!'_' Archie felt his eyes widen, and his mouth drop open. He quickly closed it again but his response had been noted.

Regina looked like she wished she could rip her own tongue out. She rose from her chair and he thought for one moment she was about to storm out.

It wouldn't be the first time. The highly-strung and dreadfully skittish mayor had made three abortive visits to him earlier this week, and so far this one was lasting the longest. Although it was only a matter of time before he said the wrong thing.

However instead of leaving, the brunette walked slowly to the window and stared outside, clasping her hands behind her midnight black jacket, saying nothing. He observed the tense lines in her body language, and the exhausted way she subtly leaned against the window frame for support.

He knew sooner or later something would have to give. No one could go on like this. Henry now spent most of his sessions worrying about his mother's state of mind and Archie had to keep assuring him that when she was ready to get help he would be there. Now finally here she was.

Archie puzzled over the mayor's admission and the identity of the woman helping her sleep at night.

Absurd as it seemed, only one name kept floating to the top of his list as likely enough to both rile Regina this much and yet also be allowed inside her inner sanctum. The woman had, from day one, simply marched right up to Storybrooke's most vicious lion and poked her in the eye, ignoring the outraged roars.

"Miss Swan. Miss Swan helps you sleep?''

Her head whipped around from the window at the name and for a second he saw the hint of anguish before the shutters came down.

"_Helped_,'' she corrected waspishly. "Past tense. And don't look at me like that. I am not having tawdry sex with ... with ... my rapist.''

She crossed her arms and glared.

"The thought hadn't occurred to me,'' Archie said innocently. "But I am curious as to why you thought it had. Have you contemplated making love with Miss Swan? Is this what is upsetting you? Because of what happened between you? You are now having an inner conflict?''

The growl from her throat was so low and frighteningly animalistic that this time the doctor did flinch.

"Miss Swan and I would NEVER 'make love' as you so quaintly put it. She is a common criminal and I'm... I'm...'' She petered out and glanced away.

"You're?'' Archie asked, canting his head to one side, curious as to why she hadn't actually listed her town-leader credentials or lofty status as she usually did.

"I'm...'' she threw her hands up and then walked back to the chair and sat heavily in it. She sighed exhaustedly as though she had no fight left to hide her feelings. "Surely you knew," she said with a faint smile. "I'm broken.''

She said it so softly Archie had to strain to hear the word. Then she was continuing, her voice a dry husk. "I could never do _that_. It's so ... intimate.'' She said the word as though the mere idea disgusted her.

She shook her head and a hint of her trademark fire surfaced in her eyes. "And as _if_ I would lower myself,'' she added as an afterthought.

"Mmm,'' Archie said unconvinced. He eyed her and then swallowed. _Time to finally have the talk._

"Tell me something," he began. "Leopold. Graham. Emma. What do they have in common?''

Regina's mouth twitched coldly. "Me. On top of me. Or under me,'' her eyes glittered darkly, the warning clear. "Why?'' she ground out, daring him to continue on such risky ground.

"Were there others?''

"None of your business.''

"Do you not see the common theme?''

Regina scowled but shook her head sharply once.

"All your sexual experiences have involved abuse of power for sex, or actual sexual assault.''

He could see the outrage chase across her features, could see she was dying to deny Graham had been used by her in that way. Perhaps used exactly the same way others had used her.

Archie was prepared for the denial but he actually knew the truth. The late sheriff had become inebriated at a party a few years back and confessed his secret shame over Regina's little arrangement - her power kicks and intimidation. His weakness and her control. The lopsided dance of power they did at Granny's B&B on Thursdays and Saturdays. Monday nights at her house. How sometimes she did not always ask permission and took him as though it was her divine right.

The day after the party confessions, the sheriff had sought him out and denied it all as a drunken man's foolish nonsense. He hadn't even looked Archie in the eye. The doctor had tried to press him but the man just gruffly told him to leave it be. They had never discussed it again ... until _that_ night.

Two years had passed and one night, shortly before he'd suddenly died, a confused, staggering Graham had cornered him on the street. Pushing him against a store front by the lapels he had leaned in and, in an anguished, chillingly sober whisper, had began to tell him of repressed memories surfacing. Memories of a crazed, vicious Regina, dressed in wild, dark clothes, doing more than merely toying with him. Cruel, cold memories. Where she never once asked permission.

Archie hadn't known what to think. The man had clearly been suffering some sort of mental break. He was tempted to dismiss the strange rambling encounter - and yet... That night still haunted him. And every now and then when he saw the town's mayor at her worst, her eyes flashing darkly, looking like she would love to crush the heart of some annoying town's minion, the memory would return and he would wonder if it was a mere delusion or based on something else.

"You know nothing!" Regina suddenly hissed.

Archie waited for the predictable denial. Would she explain in detail some rationalisation that Graham liked it rough or Archie had misunderstood or...

"I ... there was one man I loved and he loved me!''

She forced it out like proof, as if not wanting to reveal it and yet unable to stop herself. As if dredging up this precious memory made her valid and proved she was human underneath it all.

Archie started at this unexpected turn. "You had a lover where there was equality, love and mutual respect?''

He couldn't quite school the surprise from his voice and was irritated by himself for it. He should better learn to hide his feelings.

"I... no.''

Regina looked down at hands twisting in her lap and he could see the tiniest hint of tears glistening in sad eyes. "He died. Before we could do more than kiss ... I was young. We were young. It was before everything turned bad. He wasn't my lover, but he was my hope and my whole world.''

Archie could feel the oceans of pain lancing that sentence. He noted her voice had changed pitch, turning almost childlike and years seemed to instantly melt off her face.

"Regina,'' he said gently as if addressing a child. "You are still worthy of love. You had it once. You can have it again, even if you do feel broken. Which brings us back to where we began. The idea of ... if you weren't feeling so broken ... do you feel that you might want to find love in the arms of Emma Swan?'' he asked carefully.

_One must never assume. But he did have eyes and a brain._

Regina's mouth opened and then closed again. She seemed both appalled and confused.

"I don't kn... It's really not possible,'' she finally snapped. And suddenly adult Regina was most definitely back in the room. "It's useless to even consider it. Even if I wanted to - which I do not. I mean the idea is absurd! Her and me? _Really!_ Have you seen the car she drives? And the way she walks? Like a caveman. And talks? And how she... she... stands? And looks at me like me I'm a goddamned dessert? We have nothing in common. She's ... it's insane.''

Archie wondered who she was trying so hard to convince.

"Perhaps,'' he said non-committally. "And I would be the first to say there would be many obstacles and some fairly good reasons for you not to pursue this relationship, at least not now."

Regina's head snapped up and Archie saw hurt and betrayal. He wondered if she even knew that she was giving him dagger glares for suggesting a relationship that she had only just condemned might not be for the best.

"But the heart wants what the heart wants," he continued, noting her outraged eyes soften again. "So, if you like, we can perhaps talk about why _you_ think it's so impossible.''

"It's absurd,'' she repeated again and this time she sounded even less certain. Finally she shook her head and seemed completely lost.

"Indeed," he replied, for want of something else to say.

For a long moment they just stared at each other. He could see her weighing the degrees of "absurdity" she felt when she considered being with Emma Swan.

It appeared to be a long list.

A look of fear finally washed across her eyes and it was like a light going out. As if suddenly realising where she was, Regina's entire face changed. Dismay and embarrassment flooded her features.

She snarled. "We are done. You will tell no one of this, doctor. This conversation never took place.''

"No, of course, Mayor Mills. Doctor-client privilege means I would nev...''

"I have no idea why I even came here,'' she said angrily, rising. "It's a waste of time. Nothing ever changes.''

"It can if you want it to. If you want me to help you, emotionally, prepare to be in a loving relationship with Miss Swan, I can...''

"I want nothing of the sort and if you breathe so much a word of that to anyone I will make you pay dearly.''

"Mayor Mills, there's no need for threats. It's alright to want some love in your life.''

"I _have_ love in my life! I have Henry!'' she snapped and this time she really did look like she was going to leave. "And the notion I would ever want to have it with that woman, the woman who tried to RAPE me...''

"Also the woman who helps you sleep at night when you clearly need it so desperately,'' he responded as she stalked towards the door.

"Not anymore,'' Regina said. "Never again. She made demands for something I could never give. You yourself listed my less-than-desirable dating history. We both know it's true.''

"No one is suggesting you rush into dating anyone. We're just considering all sides of the issues, where you are now, where you want to go. But may I ask - what demands?''

The mayor paused and leaned against the door.

"More,'' she said. "She wants more. I can't give her anything like that. I have nothing inside to give.''

She almost painfully slapped her hand into the door frame when she said it. Archie eyed her sympathetically.

"You keep telling yourself that and one day you might even believe it," he said softly, as her eyes instantly grew wide with rage. "In the meantime...''

The door furiously slamming made the framed degree on his wall shake.

"... I am here to talk whenever you need and to help repair what makes you feel broken," he finished to the now shut door. "Any time," he said lamely to himself.

* * *

Five minutes later, the text message that landed in Emma Swan's phone made the blonde pause in her tracks. Ten small but potent words.

Emma felt her world collapse. Dimly she could hear Mary Margaret calling out to her. Asking what was wrong. She vaguely felt arms come around her shoulders and realised somehow she was now on her knees in the middle of her apartment.

Wordlessly she handed her phone to her housemate whose eyes scoured the small LED screen.

"It's time. You will now leave Storybrooke. Never come back. R."


	21. Chapter 21

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By Red Charcoal**

**********************Warnings: **Non-consensual sex references. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

**CHAPTER 21: THE CLOCK'S HANDS SHIFT  
**

18 MONTHS LATER

Emma Swan shoved her fists into the pockets of her favourite red leather jacket, noting it was getting a bit worn now but she couldn't quite bring herself to get a new one. Too many memories invested in it. Some of the fondest involved a certain mayor's derisive scowl which never quite reached her eyes. She had long suspected the prickly brunette protested a little too much about her hatred for this particular article of clothing.

At the thought of the mayor she tried to repress the inevitable pangs of regret and sadness, a little less acute now at least after 18 months, as she trudged up four flights of stairs in the dingy brick office block. Faded once-white paint peeled off the interior walls, and the steep stairs looked like they hadn't been washed since the war. The Civil War.

She didn't need to contemplate yet again all that she had given up. All that she missed so keenly that for the first six months all she could do was hold her ribs in a tiny flea-bitten hotel bed and wheeze, trying to hold back the sobs. Trying to forget all of it. All of them. _Her_.

Besides, life was, for the most part, acceptable enough now. She watched her black knee-high boots rhythmically pound up the stairs as she considered what had happened since.

It's not like she had cut off all contact with Storybrooke. She exchanged occasional emails with Mary Margaret, Ruby and the kid from time to time. She was careful never to give an actual address and was always vague about where she lived now. The last thing she needed was a Storybrooke posse making an appearance in her life and weakening what little resolve she had to honour her promise to leave the town for good.

After a year, Henry's emails had even stopped pleading with her to return in short, angry words containing all capital letters. And he was also no longer sending blatantly manipulative appeals to her heart that she had become an expert at ignoring with the help of a certain Uncle Jim Beam at the local dive.

Finally it seemed he - all of them really - had accepted his birth mother was never returning to their town. Ever.

One thing they all knew to do was never mention Regina. The pain had been so acute she had begged them for no news at all under pain of her disappearing forever if they disobeyed. And each had dutifully honoured her request.

Until a few months ago.

That's when she received The Email. The one Emma had read so many times she now knew it word for word. From Henry._ Of course he would be the one to break the vow to spare her from Regina updates._

Even now she could still see the Arial 10pt characters swirling in her mind. _Word for word._

Emma had stared at the email for almost an hour, trying and failing to quash the emotions that suddenly swamped her. When she felt the wet splashes she realised she had been crying all over her keyboard.

It all came crashing back to her, everything she thought she had been able to repress. The good as well as the bad. But especially the bad.

Like those horrible goodbyes.

_Not again_, she pleaded to herself. _No way she was going to relive that again._ She'd seen enough of seedy bars and icy rattles in spirit glasses to last a lifetime when she first left Storybrooke.

A flash of anguished Mary Margaret's face as she was clinging to her in a farewell hug hit her. She felt the grasp of Henry's tight little arms around her waist begging her "Don't go, don't go, I don't care what you promised her, I need you. You have to stay".

And the sight of a familiar, predatory black car, tinted windows firmly up, by the corner, stopped. Its occupant watching from afar. As Emma drove away, seeing dozens of Storybrooke residents waving her off in the rear-vision mirror, from a concerned, frowning Archie Hopper to an unravelling, sniffling Granny, she saw the car stayed there the whole time, unmoving. Her very own 'fuck-you Emma' farewell sentinel.

_Making sure she was really gone, probably_, Emma thought.

She'd tried to talk to her. Within an hour after she got the text, after Mary Margaret calmed her down and urged her to talk to Regina, she had raced around to see her. The door was slammed viciously hard in her face. All she had seen before the white door and a "108" filled her vision was a glimpse of fear behind anguished brown eyes moments before.

_What was she afraid of?_ It made no sense.

Emma grimaced. She could still remember how Storybrooke had smelt that last day, and taste the slight saltiness and iron in the air. Only later she realised she had bitten her lip to try not to react to the wall of emotions crashing on her and people confessing love and sadness over her. _Her - Emma Swan!_ It was so uncomfortable and strange.

She forced herself to not think of the past. _Again_. Henry's small betrayed eyes, filled with tears, slowly dissolved before her mind's eye just as she reached the top of the stairs.

A frosted glass door was in front of her with the words 'Bail Bondsperson' and she couldn't help but smirk. She had an actual office. She, Emma Swan, mistress of the open road, had rented office space. OK so it was more one star than five star, but still.

It was still hard to get used to at times. Something had changed her in Storybrooke, something fundamental to who she was. She tried not to think about that too hard, either.

She opened the door, slipping her freezing hands back into her jacket, as she gently closed it with her shapely boot.

"Mandy," she said with an easy grin at the portly woman she employed as a casual secretary whenever her bounty-hunting work started piling up.

"Hey boss," the 30-something redhead said with an impish grin and a saucy smack of chewing gum. "Nice of you to join us. You were 'sposed to be back in Boston last week."

Emma was instantly hit by the woman's lavender scent which Mandy seemed to almost bathe herself in. For all she knew, she did. Woman was into all sorts of New Age stuff if the crystals and runes scattered about the desk were anything to go by. Part of her charm, Emma supposed, trying to block out the overpowering smell with a twitch of outraged nostrils.

"Got held up," the blonde answered with a shrug, trying not to think of the size of the thug who had been doing the holding. _Literally_.

He had been a brute of a man, off his face on god knows what illicit substances, and did not take too kindly to being told there was a warrant out for his arrest. And then his even larger friends had come to see what the fuss was about. That had been messy.

She winced as she remembered all the bruises and scrapes that little encounter had earned her. She'd needed to rest her badly twisted ankle for a week after that, which left her unable to drive back to Boston.

Emma slid one jean-clad thigh onto the side of the desk and eyed her part-time secretary. The girl's sweet, plump features and good nature were a vastly pleasing sight after six weeks on the road and meeting leering, drunken bastards at truck stops asking her "how much" by way of greasy introduction. She eyed Mandy's bent head as the redhead efficiently sorted through a tray of paperwork.

"OK, your messages - Boston PD wants to talk to you about Nigel Whitman, that deceased-estate thief you caught two months ago. Say they need to know exactly which brothel you tracked him down in. Apparently it's to do with evidence in his case. Could be crucial to nailing him on some other charges."

She passed a letter across to Emma who thought back to the smarmy shit who felt her up while she was posing as a brothel hooker.

"Anything to put that creep away," she said with a shudder as she remembered some of the things he'd hissed in her ear. "Tell them it was Rosie's on the coastal road. What else?"

"Shania down the hall at the legal office wants to know if you're free for dinner when you get back," she said with a suggestive eyebrow waggle. "She seems to think your first date ended 'far too early' last time."

Emma grunted. "Well it will do that when one of us starts flirting with the waitress before first course even arrives."

"That was _her_ who did that, right?" Mandy clarified cluelessly. "Shame, she did seem like your sort. Brunette, power suit, great legs..."

Emma rolled her eyes, not dignifying her unerring accuracy with a response. She wondered how she had gotten so domestic to even have someone like this tease her. Mandy did remind her of a Ruby in a way. Her eyes glazed over affectionately. She did miss Ruby's playful charms.

She caught herself. _Why did everything have to come back to Storybrooke?_

"Oh that reminds me, you have a visitor. In your office. Claims to be an old friend."

"I don't have any old friends," Emma said with a frown but slid off the desk and strode towards her battered office door. "None who would leave their pedestrian little town in the middle of nowhere, anyway."

She flung the door open. There, in an immaculate tailored suit, tight navy pencil skirt, white linen shirt, three buttons undone, and shiny, high navy heels sat a most impressive figure. The woman smiled, scarlet lips curving in a hint of amusement as she leaned slightly forward, her cleavage as familiar as it was magnificent.

"Oh Jesus." Emma sank into her chair, opposite, as she forgot entirely how to work her muscles.

"No. Regina Mills, actually. Although you might remember me as the mayor of some pedestrian little town in the middle of nowhere you visited once."


	22. Chapter 22

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By Red Charcoal**

**********************Warnings: **Non-consensual sex references. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

**CHAPTER 22: LOOKING FOR YELLOW IN A SEA OF GREY**

.

18 MONTHS EARLIER

Regina Mills took one look at the agitated face of Emma Swan at her door and slammed it in her face. She leaned back against the door of her home and sank to the floor, emotions hammering her from every angle. She couldn't do this anymore. Couldn't face Swan. Couldn't face these competing feelings which seemed to attack her like writhing, squirming eels. Couldn't face the lack of sleep and the horrible nightmares. Couldn't face Hopper's impertinent questions.

_Damn the man. He already knew far too much about her without somehow filling in the gaps on his own._

Regina rubbed her eyes with the base of her hands, trying to ignore Emma's pleas for entry from the other side of the shuddering door. Was she actually hitting it with her fist? Regina shook her head and then buried it in her folded arms across the knees bent under her chin.

Now she could hear a beseeching "Why?''. She could hear the anguish. It mirrored her own. And it was fracturing her already fragile heart.

_It was too much. This. All this._

She was going insane.

Dimly, somewhere at the back of her fading brain, she knew she should probably open the door. Sit down like an adult with Emma Swan and explain. All of it. The 'too much' that came from seeing her every day. Dealing with her. Her churning emotions. Her pain. Anger. Fear. Too much. All too much.

Even Hopper had pretty much told her it wouldn't work. Swan and her. Bad idea. _Damn insect was probably right for once._

She was broken. With Swan she'd only make her broken, too. Well, _more_ broken.

Apart they had a chance. Well at least the sheriff did.

Regina leaned her head back against the door, relieved the thrumming from the other side had finally stopped.

But for herself? She would always be broken.

* * *

In the end her first guess had been the right one. Drugs. Hopper prescribed her sedatives when it became clear she had no intention of talking about herself with him again. And not talking was doing nothing to get her sleep patterns restored, so he had put her on these little white pills. Regina eyed the pair of tablets in irritation before throwing them back and swallowing with a long sip of water. She hated this. This weakness. Relying on the external to do what should come naturally.

She slid into bed and pulled the covers up, wondering, as she always did at this time of night, where Emma was now.

It had been a fortnight. A fortnight of not seeing the annoying blonde or her risible deathtrap vehicle anywhere in Storybrooke's streets. Not encountering her smug smirks or, Regina sucked in a breath, her slow, not-so-secretly admiring looks. Her bullish charms. Her dancing eyes. Regina frowned. _Not dancing._ Piercing.

Or ... she tried to think of a more condemning word. Nothing came to her. If she were honest, Emma Swan did have lovely eyes. She gave a half smile as she thought about that.

Her smile faded after a moment.

It had also been a fortnight of anger. From Henry, in particular, who appeared to be on a speaking strike. Refusing to answer any of her questions at meal times, just glaring darkly at her. Occasionally he would yell at her and run upstairs and slam the door to his bedroom. She would hear things being thrown. Then silence. In a way that was the worst part. Not knowing if he was crying himself to sleep or sitting there brooding about his hate for her or emailing Emma on his computer.

Oh, she knew about that. Mary Margaret had told her email addresses had been exchanged. And later she told her that Emma had specifically insisted no one in Storybrooke give her any updates about the mayor.

Hearing that had hurt far more than she thought it would.

Emma wanted her erased from her life, too? _Fine_. That seemed only fair.

Except she didn't feel the slightest bit fine.

She pushed the thought away and reached for her cider glass before remembering she wasn't allowed to have it anymore with these disgusting little pills.

Her hand fell away again and formed a fist. Impulsively she struck her bedside table. It didn't feel better for the angry thump, but nothing did anymore.

She rubbed her hand with a scowl. She could still remember the fidgety way Mary Margaret had imparted the news that Emma wanted to know nothing more about her. The nervous woman had swallowed anxiously and then looked down at her feet.

The mayor took a moment to consider the teacher. Of all the people in Storybrooke, Regina had expected to get a fair amount of grief from the other brunette. She might be a mousy little thing, but when it came to loyalty, she could be formidable, sticking out her jaw more pugnaciously than Henry as she made a stand on this issue or that.

Instead, Regina had been subjected to something far worse. Sympathy. Understanding. Pitying looks. If she'd hated Emma saying sorry, she had come to loathe the sight of Mary Margaret's big sad eyes regarding her almost as much.

They had bumped into each other in Granny's diner the day after Emma's departure. She had already endured Granny slamming her takeout coffee on the counter, Leroy accidentally on purpose stomping his boot on her foot and shoulder crunching her on the way past, and Ruby's glacial cold glare. But the moment the teacher's soft eyes slid knowingly up to hers, she knew the woman understood _everything_.

Regina felt so sick she had left her coffee untouched on the counter and stumbled outside.

_To hell with them all, anyway. Until they had walked a mile in her heels, they could all go to hell._

The teacher, mercifully, hadn't tried to follow.

At least not that time.

* * *

Time moves more slowly when you are actually aware of its passage. Even in Storybroooke, the mayor knew this to be paradoxically true. Regina had been getting her sleep, thanks to those tiny little pills. Henry had gone from not talking to her at all to grunting at her occasionally.

Most people had taken to avoiding her - either because they saw her as the one who had driven their adored sheriff away for no good reason, or because her mood had been as black as a demon's heart for months.

Regina didn't particularly care either way, as she settled into the diner and stared bleakly out at the main street at lunchtime. She ordered her food by lifting an index finger. Ruby knew what to get her and it suited them both not having to talk to each other at all.

The mayor found herself studying the cars. It was something she did automatically without even realising it most of the time. She was always able to pick yellow out of the slow-moving parade of vehicles.

_Yellow_.

Of course she looked for yellow.

She was also particularly adept at noticing red. On the pavements when small crowds walked by, she could spot a red jacket from any distance, as she sipped on her coffee and watched.

And watched.

"She isn't coming back, Regina,'' a voice said, far too close. She knew without turning who would be so impertinent as to raise the topic with her and invade her space like this. She felt the table shudder and the booth seat opposite her squeak as the unwelcome guest took up residence.

"But that's what you wanted. So it's good, right?''

Irritated, she turned back to Archie Hopper, not bothering to dignify the man's rambles with a response. She pursed her lips and glared.

"It's been three months, Regina.''

"I am well aware,'' she snapped.

He gave a small smile, as if expecting that. "Time enough, perhaps, that you might want to talk about it. Why you made her leave right then? Why you want her back.''

"What on earth makes you think I want her back? After all I spent an inordinate amount of time trying to make her leave when she first arrived.''

Archie's eyebrows lifted.

"Well that's new,'' he mused.

"What?'' she said with a snarl, batting the salt shaker away with the back of her fingers.

"Invoking Emma's arrival again. Not her more recent, er, crimes.''

"Those go without saying,'' Regina muttered and turned to the window again. Her eyes lit up at a yellow VW slowly snaking its way up the main thoroughfare. She hissed in a breath for a moment before she realised.

It wasn't her. It would _never_ be her.

"It won't be her,'' Archie said as if reading her mind, his eyes having followed hers.

"I know she's not coming back,'' Regina growled, picking up the salt shaker and slamming it back on the counter.

The diner fell quiet from the sharp noise. Heads craned and stared and Regina bared her teeth at them. They quickly found other things to look at.

"Really,'' she hissed directing icy eyes at the doctor. "I _know_. Don't you think I didn't hear her begging on my doorstep to stay? You think I don't know that refusing her then means she'll never come back?''

Archie looked at her kindly. "So you DO want her to come back?''

"Don't be ridiculous! I just got rid of her.''

She had meant it to be wry and flippant. It came out bitter and mean. Out of the corner of her eye, judging by the outraged glance Ruby had tossed her way, she also realised it came out far too loud.

She rose and turned to the waitress. "I am suddenly not feeling hungry today. Please cancel my order.''

Her eyes fell back to the man observing her from the booth. "You're wasting your time here, Doctor. But you knew that already.''

She gave him a thin smile and leaned forward until her lips brushed against the shell of his ear. "Remember, dear, I'm broken. Don't trouble yourself. And, for the record, I don't miss her in the least.''

Hopper lifted his eyebrows. "And I'll believe that, Madame Mayor, when you stop looking for yellow.''

The door to the diner slammed shut with an angry clang of the bell.


	23. Chapter 23

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By Red Charcoal**

**************************Warnings: **Non-consensual sex references. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

.

**CHAPTER 23: PLAN A**

BOSTON - PRESENT DAY**  
**

Emma stared at the woman seated regally opposite her. She smelled of achingly familiar perfume - some sort of apple-based scent fused with Regina's own potent brand of sexuality that never failed to make her heart beat faster, even after all this time.

"Regina," she croaked. She cleared her throat and tried again. This time it came out like a growl. "Regina. Why are you here."

It wasn't a question.

The other woman smiled brightly again, perfect rows of pearly white teeth gleaming.

"Right down to business, Sheriff? Or shall I call you 'The Bounty Hunter' now?" she said with exaggerated emphasis. "I always liked that about you. So ... straightforward."

Emma's eyes narrowed. "Really? You came here to play games? I don't have time right now. So maybe you'd like to make an appointment with my secretary. I think I am free in about six to eight weeks. If you're lucky."

The blonde smiled faintly. It was not her most pleasant smile and it secretly pleased her to see Regina momentarily falter. She looked the brunette directly in the eye. "Or did you just expect I'd fall for your charms and play along with whatever _this_ is? Panting like a little puppy, excited just to bound around your feet? Please tell me _that_ wasn't your Plan A?''

Regina pursed her lips. "Well you'll never know what my Plan A is if you don't come out with me. Dinner? Tonight? And I have also found a most interesting-sounding place in your esteemed city's tourist guide. _For later_."

Regina pulled a booklet out of her exquisitely tailored pocket. The cover was lurid pink and had a garish rainbow emblazoned in one corner. Emma squinted and tilted her head and could just make out the name. She gaped. Even seeing this thing in Regina's hands seemed absurdly out of place.

"Boston's Hottest Pink Nightspots? Uh, what now?'' she blurted.

"Well it seemed apt if we are to go dancing later.''

"We _are_?'' Emma drawled sceptically, even as her mind raced ahead, far too gleefully picturing that scenario. She forcibly shook the image from her head.

"Most definitely, Miss Swan. Tell me, have you ever been to this Pussy in Boots? It sounds quite ... intriguing. 'Boston's oldest upmarket night spot for ladies','' Regina read thoughtfully, her index finger sliding down the page. "It has a delightful sounding piano bar. Miss Understood will be tickling her ivories apparently."

"What the hell are you doing?'' Emma asked in irritation, now completely lost. "Why would you want us to go there? To a... Boston ladies club?''

"Well are we both not in Boston? And both ladies? One of us more than the other, granted, but what can you do?'' Regina shrugged and gave a smirk as she ran her eye across over Emma's form.

"But if that isn't to your taste, there is also something here about ladies who like their leather. Now what do you suppose that is all about?'' Regina smirked openly now, her eyes dancing with amusement.

"Enough,'' Emma said, slapping the desk, snapping Regina's head out of the book with a start. "I don't know what the hell you think you're doing or what twisted little schemes you've dreamed up but I have had a lot of time to think. And ... and get over... what happened. Back there. And get my life back together and I am certainly not just going to risk all this or my feel... I... look, Regina, I am seeing someone." She screeched to a halt, panicked.

Regina lifted an eyebrow questioningly.

"Shania,'' she blurted out as an afterthought.

"Really dear?" Regina asked, completely underwhelmed. "_Shania_, is it? And what does this wondrous _Shania_ even do? Sounds like a country singer,'' she sniffed.

"She's a lawyer. Down the hall.'' Emma shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

Regina's eyes flashed in amusement. "Is that so? Would you believe me if I said I have no interest in your social life and was here purely for Henry?''

"No," Emma scowled. "Not unless our 11-year-old has taken a sudden interest in his mothers hitting Boston's lesbian hot spots. Why, Regina? Just tell me - why the hell are you here?''

Regina ignored the question and leaned forward conspiratorially. "We both know you're not seeing that country-singing lawyer. Don't we, dear?''

"She doesn't sing country.''

"How would you know? You've only been on _one_ date with her,'' Regina responded with a faint smile. She tilted her head as if recalling a detail. "Flirting with the waitress I believe you said? My, my. _Most_ unbecoming. What a dreadful _cad_,'' she mocked. "You forget I have excellent hearing," she added at Emma's dumbfounded expression.

The blonde sighed and crossed her arms, annoyed at being caught out so easily. "Fine. But it doesn't mean you get a free pass to ... whatever the hell is it you're up to.''

"Dinner and dancing. The price you pay to find out.''

"I'm busy tonight.''

"Your delightful little secretary seems to think otherwise. So who am I to believe? Want to check your schedule again?''

"Damned stool pigeon,'' Emma muttered, shooting the door to her outer office a dark glare.

"Shall we say eight? I will pick you up at your place.''

"How do you even know where I live?''

"Really, Miss Swan," Regina tsked pleasantly. "I did manage to find where you worked, too. Besides, this is _me_ we're talking about.''

There was something so smug about her, sitting there. Looking like she had won. _Again_. In a flash Emma felt her blood boil. Before she could stop herself she felt the pain erupt.

"Why would I want to ever agree to this? _You broke my goddamned heart!_'' she snarled.

There was a lengthy pause as both women stared at each other, Emma's chest rising and falling angrily. Her outrage was written all over her features.

"I know,'' Regina finally said softly. "I do," she added regretfully.

And for the first time genuine shame and contrition crossed her face. "Believe me when I say, that was never my intention.''

Emma digested that as she eyed the other woman. Regina seemed different. Less wary, more... _What was the word?_ Also less cold.

Just _more_.

She thought back to Henry's pivotal email. And that did it. Before she could stop herself she realised she was slowly nodding.

"Eight o'clock,'' she finally agreed. Then she lowered her voice. "But if you mess with me again, by accident or design, I swear...''

Regina smiled brightly and Emma felt like she could hear the entire Hallelujah chorus. _How did she manage that? Fill a room with her sheer force of personality like that?_

"I cannot wait, my dear,'' the brunette husked, then rose elegantly, leaned forward, dropping a small kiss against Emma's cheek. And breezed out.

Emma sat rooted to the spot. Smelling the hint of apples and scent that was uniquely Regina. Still feeling that lightest brush of soft lips against her skin. Her heart was thundering away like a freight train.

Shit._ How did she do that?_

Mandy popped her head around the corner. "That was her, wasn't it? The original Emma happiness destroyer? The one whose name you won't say cos she stomped your heart into 'a million billion pieces'?'' She grinned cheekily to take the sting out.

"Yeah.'' Emma sighed wearily. "And it seems we're going to dinner. And dancing.''

Mandy smacked her chewing gum loudly to punctuate her amazement. "Shiiiiit! No kidding? Are you a glutton for punishment or what?''

Emma sucked in her bottom lip and considered that. _Well hell. She really fucking must be._

"Something like that,'' she agreed mournfully.

"Still it's not all bad, right?'' Mandy continued. "She might stomp your heart into a million billion pieces but just imagine how freakin' fabulous she'll look doing it!" she said and chuckled at Emma's faux outraged growl. "Seriously, boss - that chick's smoking hot!''

Emma dropped her head into her hands. "Yeah," she groaned. "She really is.''

She heard Mandy's amused chuckle the whole way back out to her desk.

* * *

**Author's note:** _And before you all ask, yes, of course I will be returning to Regina in the past and how she got to this point. I shall always plug the gaps, just not necessarily sequentially._


	24. Chapter 24

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By Red Charcoal**

**************************Author's note: **Just a little filler chapter. Thanks to Bond. Jane for the idea.

**************************Warnings: **Non-consensual sex references. This is dark. It's my first fic. So for themes and novice errors, you have been warned.

**.  
**

**CHAPTER 24: GREEN IT IS  
**

BOSTON - PRESENT DAY

"I can't do this. This is nuts. It's _insane_. And don't know why I ever agreed and..."

Emma sucked in a huge lungful of air, eyes darting around her bedroom, hands almost flapping before she seemed to catch herself and balled them into fists.

"OK, calm thoughts," Mandy cut in. "Now what'd we say before about calm thoughts? You are in a Japanese rock garden..."

Emma shot her a filthy look and the redhead chuckled. "Too much?"

She had received her boss's urgent text message half an hour ago and had rushed around to her apartment, half expecting to find her fearless bounty-hunter employer grappling with a gang of thugs. That's how bad it had sounded.

She should have guessed the alluring brunette visitor with the dangerous attitude, sexy scent and world's sharpest power suit would undo Emma Swan far more than any two-bit assholes.

Her only surprise was that the woman with the smoky, watchful eyes hadn't pulled out some elegant Audrey Hepburn-esque cigarette holder and started husking lines from Lauren Bacall. As it was Mandy had found herself thoroughly charmed by the infamous Mayor Mills, as the secretary had been expertly pumped for information on her boss's movements and new life. It had taken her well over quarter of an hour before Mandy had even realised what the smooth woman was up to. And little usually got past her.

There was no doubt this woman was a thorough pro at everything she did. And, most likely, _everyone _she did. She suspected few people said no to her, either. She did not envy Emma Swan trying to go up against one so clearly gifted in so many dark, seductive arts. Her boss was going to need a lot of help to get through tonight, of that she was sure. She wished she could do more to help. She turned her attention to the task at hand.

They were in the blonde's bedroom. Dresses of every hue were strewn across the bed, chosen then discarded, then chosen again. It was like a rainbow had exploded in her room. The blonde was standing helplessly, sucking anxiously on her bottom lip - never a good sign, the redhead noted - and looking terrified.

Mandy had never ever seen this particular expression on the fearless woman's face before.

"OK, boss," she said soothingly, latching onto both Emma's hands and holding them, just to stop them waving wildly again. "Let's break it down shall we? _Why _are you going on this date?"

"It's NOT a date," Emma said, snapping her eyes to hers.

"OK," she tried again, more gently, "So why are you going out with the life-ruining she-devil who broke your heart?"

"Uh..."

She waited. Green eyes darted about the room, then down to her feet. Emma's shoulders finally slumped in defeat.

"I don't know," she admitted in an ashamed, halting whisper. "I ... she just does this _thing_, where she asks in a certain way and looks at me in a certain way and I just ... I say _yes_. Oh shit. I..."

"Emma," Mandy said quietly, "Do you even _want _to go out with her? I mean if not, _I_ can just answer the door at eight and send her on her way. If you like I'll even put my stinkiest scent on and bearhug her till her eyes pop."

Emma stopped freaking out for a moment and gaped at her in confusion. "Regina would HATE someone just randomly hugging her," she said in horror. "Like SERIOUSLY loathe it."

"Duh, that's the point!"

"Oh. _Right_," Emma grinned sheepishly. "You know Regina does have the worst death-stare glare when she hates something. It's kinda intense and a little bit sexy."

Her eyes glazed over and Mandy realised she was losing her boss's focus rapidly.

She snapped her fingers. "Focus, hon. So, what ARE we doing here? Getting rid of the psycho babe? Or going out with her for a hot night of dinner and dancing to rekindle things?"

"It's not a date," Emma protested, shaking her head. "I just want to know why she's here. That's it."

"OK, right, not a date," Mandy agreed. "So if that's the case, there's no reason to be alarmed then. Why don't you start thinking of it like one of your special ops thingies. You know, break it down - like, um, step one is scope out the target, step two is extract intel, step three is ditch her when intel is acquired. You can do that right? You do it every day."

Emma's eyes lit up. "Yeah," she said enthusiastically.

Then her face fell. "But this is kind of like no ordinary target. She's like ... ah, a Bond super villain or something."

Mandy patted her hand. "I know, boss, she's extra, special tricky cos you love her."

Emma stared glumly at her for a moment. She didn't deny it.

"I hate that I can't forget her," the blonde eventually said in a low growl. "Especially after she kicked me out of her town. Didn't even explain why. Just ... GO! Like I was some stray dog. In a fucking _text_. I had to give up everything. I lost my son, my life, my job, my friends. EVERYTHING."

The hurt laced through the words as though it had happened yesterday. The redhead felt her heart break for her.

"I know," Mandy nodded. She'd heard this story more than once, especially on a Friday night at the dive at the end of the street. Five beers in and Emma Swan liked to talk ... when she wasn't crooning off-key to love songs playing in the background. "Let's face it, hon, she was a psycho bitch-face mole to you, right? Well, never forget I can still stinkbomb hug her anyway. Would you like me to? Show Regina Mills she can't control everything?"

Emma's lips twitched. "Tempting."

"Just say the word, and my pores and Mandy Louise Somerville's special blend No. 3 will do all the work. Now speaking of tempting ... you will remember your mission plan, 'Kay?"

"Uh... my _what_?"

Emma was now running her fingers distractedly through her outfit choices. She lifted up a red dress against herself, assessing. "There's a plan? Hey, you like this one?''

"There's always a plan. Yeah, that's nice. But try the green. Matches your eyes. Remember on every dat... um... _mission_, you always have to know what your end game is. And your end game is the saucy mayoral heart-breaker doesn't get to lay a single sexy finger on you, tonight, right? Or you'll lose focus. So hold the course. You're 'sposed to be mad at her."

Emma glared in outrage. "There's no 'supposed to be' about it. She does enrage me. Shit, Mandy, I am not completely whipped."

"Mmm, says the woman who sat glued to her chair for half an hour after Her Ladyship wafted out of our office today. Not sure you could even spell your own name right after that. Look I get she's mega hot..."

Emma sighed. "Is there a point to this?" She crossed her arms and glowered.

The secretary continued uncowed: "I just don't want you hurting again, OK? So sue me. Oh that one's _so_ nice. Try that."

Emma shook her head firmly. "Too revealing. She'll think I'm for sale.''

"She'll only think you're for sale if you act that way. Why not taunt her with what she can no longer have? Remind her what she threw away like last week's old newspaper? Let her look but not touch?''

Emma held a plunging green silky dress up to herself and stared in the mirror. The split up the back was barely legal.

She gave a small smile. "Look but don't touch?" She turned to Mandy and asked quietly: "What makes you so sure she wants to touch anyway?"

"Oh honey," Mandy purred, "I know because she's not blind. And that dress could probably turn _me_. Besides, anyone who would wait for you in your crappy, airless, hole of an office for two-and-a-half hours without a peep of complaint is definitely here for more than looking."

Emma smirked and gave a nod. "Green it is."


	25. Chapter 25

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By Red Charcoal**

**CHAPTER 25: IT'S NOT A DATE**

Emma swallowed hard when she glanced at the clock. Mandy had bowed out a little while ago with a wicked grin and a swift hug, leaving the blonde to pace, fidget and fret. She wished she still had Regina's cell number, because she would have texted her a panicked bail-out message several times over by now.

The knock was sharp and authoritative. _Some things never change. _Emma picked up a small elegant green case with a gold link-chain strap, and headed for the door. She stared at the solid wood with chipped paint for a beat, swallowed again and then flung it open.

Her jaw dropped.

Regina Mills wore a tailored black suit. Underneath was a silky white button-up dress shirt, and a silk midnight black tie, knotted but roguishly hanging a little loose. Her hair was slicked back. She gave a half smile and leaned casually against the door frame, one hand sliding into her pocket. Her exotic cologne invaded Emma's senses and made her entire body thrum with approval. She wished she could scowl at her traitorous body and tell it to quit reacting like a teenage girl.

"Why Miss Swan," came a familiar, amused drawl, "Don't you look stunning."

Regina's eyes flickered over her body, following the green swish of fabric and lengthy flash of leg as Emma straightened, and the insanely plunging cleavage. Brown eyes lingered a moment there before sliding back up to the blonde's slowly reddening face.

"Uh, thanks," Emma said, "You too. You look ..." Her hand waved up and down in front of Regina's stunning suit, "Like an actress from some old Hepburn movie or something."

"Are you calling me old, my dear?" Regina cocked an amused eyebrow. "Because I feel rather young tonight. And _daring_."

She smiled then, wide and genuine, perfect white teeth on display, and Emma's brain completely short fused. She was unable to think of a single thing to say.

"Not old," she finally gasped out after an eternity as she grimly looked down at her heels, away from those watching eyes. "_Never old_."

"Glad to hear it, my dear. Shall we?" She offered an arm to Emma like a perfect British gentleman and the blonde stared at it for a moment before sighing. She wrapped her fingers around the crook of the arm and mentally shook her head. She had already failed Mandy's only mission rule of not letting a single sexy finger of Regina's touch her.

She felt the mayor's warmth emanating from the jacket sleeve under her fingers. She realised the fabric was expensive and the suit probably personally made by some high-end tailor. She shouldn't have been surprised. Regina Mills always had impeccable taste in clothes.

Regina lead her down the stairs, and Emma got another whiff of her intoxicating scent. _Regina Mills was going to be the death of her. Of that she had no doubt._

* * *

The dinner had been superb. Emma had no words for half the food that had appeared in front of her - Regina had insisted on ordering "something special" for her. But she knew fine food when she tasted it, and the colourful little plates of French fare had been astonishing - flavours dancing across her tongue, forcing her to find new words for saying "shit that was good". All the while Regina offered her small, pleased smiles, and kept the courses coming with subtle nods to their waiter.

All evening they had talked but only tiptoed around the real issues. Regina had told Emma about what Henry was up to - not much more than their son had already shared with her in their emails. She had nodded as though it were news to her.

And Emma had told the mayor a little bit about her work, and in the process, she had discovered she was not nearly so hard to find as she imagined.

"I just made enquiries with the first Boston bail bondsman I could find as to whether he might know of any women doing his line of work," Regina explained, her eyes dancing merrily. "You are apparently known in your field as 'that hot blonde babe down on Fourth'. So don't blame me if you're too memorable for your own good." Regina had folded her linen serviette, placing it on the table and gave a smile.

"Really, dear, I found you in less than a week. Which means either I am particularly adept at your line of work, or bail bondsmen in Boston are a bunch of oversexed misogynistic individuals. Which do you believe is true?"

Emma couldn't hold back her grin. "Probably a bit of both," she said and then laughed. Regina watched her and an unreadable expression crossed her face.

"I've missed that," came a soft voice.

"Huh?'' Emma stopped laughing at the earnestness.

"Your laugh. Your smile. You looking happy. Well, _you_, really, if you must know."

"Regina, I ... we... We... can't."

"No," Regina said rising, shooting her a small smile. "We're not having that conversation yet. Besides first you promised me I could take you dancing. And it would be a shame to waste that dress, don't you think?"

Emma swallowed as she identified the frankly appreciative way Regina was focusing on her curves again. She had to remind herself of who she was and what she had done to her. The memory of the tears shed. Of leaving a life she had grown to love. It washed over her and she stood suddenly.

"Fine," she said coldly. The tone, out of nowhere, brought up Regina's head sharply. Confusion flickered across the brunette's face but then it was gone, the frowns and creases ironed out as a mask of perfect politeness dropped into place. Her politician face. Emma remembered it well.

"Have I caused offense dear?'' she asked quietly, as Emma grabbed for her green handbag and shouldered it. It swung viciously from the force of her motion.

"Just remembering some things, Regina," Emma replied curtly. "It's good to remember. You know?"

She didn't wait for an answer and stalked away from the table, leaving Regina to sort out their bill and follow her. She felt eyes on her. Watching.

She used those minutes alone on the street to try and gather herself and calm the confusion of memories competing for space in her head. Regina Mills - in full seductive mode - was a hard woman to hate. But she was trying her best.

She sensed Regina before she saw her as the restaurant door opened then closed.

For a moment the silence was awkward. Already Emma missed the easy companionship she'd just been sharing with Regina, but she knew she was also right. One evening of small talk could never erase their stormy, messed up past.

"Emma," Regina said quietly, "We can never forget, it's true. But a person can make new memories."

The blonde stared at her. "Is that why you are here?"

"_Soon_," Regina gave a mysterious half smile. "First - dancing."

* * *

The club Regina had selected for them proved elegant and discreet, as sophisticated well-heeled female couples glided around a dance floor, and the pianist, the ludicrously named Miss Understood, was actually fairly accomplished at her ivory tickling.

Eyes watched them the moment they stepped in the club, and Emma knew that probably had a lot to do with the sheer sexuality and sensuality oozing from her date. Regina in a suit was a divine look and if Emma hadn't known who she was, she would have watched her enter with her jaw on the floor, too.

Regina's arm slid protectively around Emma's waist and she led her down to the sunken dance floor.

"Ready?" she husked, and without waiting for her response, slipped her into her arms.

Emma gasped at the flood of sensations that bolted through her body. She stopped counting after arousal, confusion and longing became her muddied emotional cocktail.

She could feel her heart thumping wildly as Regina sure-footedly led them around the floor accompanied by some aching French love song.

Mayor Mills was a sublime dancer. She'd kept that well hidden. Emma, fortunately, thanks to moonlighting as an exotic dancer a few years back to catch a perp, had some seriously impressive moves of her own that she hadn't unleashed in years. _If ever there was a time._

She glimpsed Regina's impressed look as she identified Emma's talent was far above the ordinary and couldn't help the surge of pride.

They meshed superbly on the dance floor. Now a different French melody began to play - slower this time - and Regina gentled their pace, gathering Emma more tightly to her until their breasts were brushing. It would have been suffocating from anyone else but Emma felt her own resolve weaken, well aware her body was screaming it was exactly where it wanted to be. Where it had always wanted to be.

"What are you thinking?" the brunette asked. Eyes sought out green. Her expression was genuinely curious.

Emma forced herself not to blush and searched her mind for something neutral. "Why is French the theme for our evening?" she finally responded, a little taken aback when Regina's soft cheek slid daringly against her own. They were so close their breaths were mingling. It was profoundly erotic.

"No reason," her dance partner husked. "I thought you might like the cuisine. And the music at this club was not specified in that guide book."

Emma processed that, feeling the warmth of Regina's fingers now slide across the small of her back, where her dress scooped down low, their bare skin touching for the first time.

"I really do love this dress," Regina whispered into the shell of her ear. "I never would have picked you for a daring diva look."

"And I wouldn't have thought you'd go all Marlene Dietrich to give Boston's lesbians a thrill. But here you are. And no one in this club can tear their eyes off you."

A low rich laugh rumbled in Regina's chest and Emma felt it as though it were in her own.

"Oh, my dear, don't you know? It's _you_ they're all looking at. I am getting the dagger looks. They wish they were me. They are desperately jealous. They all want to go home with you tonight."

Emma started and flicked her eyes around the room. _OK, Regina might have been half right._ Her date was getting some baleful stares amid the appreciative ones. She paused.

_Wait, this wasn't a date._

Then Regina's final words registered. She arched back in the brunette's arms. "_This_ is what you think? That I am going home with you tonight?'' Her eyebrow arched up accusingly. At Regina's rapidly collapsing expression, Emma took another step back and held her hands up. "You have rocks in your head if you think I am that easy to manipulate."

"Emma, wait. No," Regina said sharply. "Please." Her tone instantly became soft. "Come and sit down. That's not what I thought. Please."

She looked at her with such sincerity Emma sighed and nodded sharply, unable to wipe the distrustful expression from her face.

They found a table in a dark corner, lit only by a small candle burning in a red glass jar. Emma ran her finger up the outside of it, mesmerised by the flame. And the woman who sat on the other side of it.

Regina's skin seemed to glow a burnished orange under the flame. Her eyes were huge, dark, hypnotising.

"I came for a couple of reasons," Regina began softly, eyes flicking up to Emma's then glancing down at her twisting hands. "I have been getting help for my ... for everything. I have. And I see clearly now, where my choices led me. Where they led you. That day - when I didn't open the door. Didn't... I let you leave without explaining. And I cannot tell you how sorry I am. It was a mistake. One of many. Too many."

She flicked a gaze up at the blonde, but Emma stared back, giving nothing away. Inside, though, she felt her heart hammer. _Regina had just apologised._ Something she thought Hell would freeze over before she'd ever hear.

Regina swallowed and glanced down at the table's flickering flame. Her voice dropped to little more than a whisper. "I came because I wanted to ask you something."

There was a pause and if the blonde didn't know any better she would say the mayor was suddenly anxious.

"What?" Emma said, her mouth so dry she had to repeat the question. "What do you want to ask?"

"Well that question ... in a minute. First there's something else."

Regina reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out an ivory-coloured envelope and slid it across the table. She looked up and locked brown eyes with green.

"I was really hoping you'd come to the wedding."


	26. Chapter 26

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By Red Charcoal**

**CHAPTER 26: UNDERSTANDING**

* * *

STORYBROOKE - PAST

Regina glared at the piece of paper in her hand with Dr Hopper's distinctive looping scrawl as if it held all the answers. It held nothing but an address. Her nose twitched from straw or pollen or whatever the hell Mother Nature saw fit to torture her with.

"Why are we here, Mom?'' a petulant voice from below her demanded.

_A good question_, the mayor thought, though she did not reply immediately. A bear of a man was making his way towards them, with a big ambling gait, so Regina shoved the paper in her pocket and plastered on a welcoming smile.

It didn't reach her eyes.

"We're here because Dr Hopper thought you might enjoy it,'' she said in a low voice to Henry, eyeing the large shadow coming up to them. "You said you wanted to learn to ride. Now here we are. I'd have thought you'd be grateful."

"I was six when I said that," came the predictable retort. It was like a verbal scowl. Regina sighed. Her eyes tightened as she bit back her first response.

They were here because Hopper had told her their relationship couldn't continue the way it was. And Henry needed something to bond over with his mother.

"You like horses, don't you?" the doctor had asked her reasonably when she had reeled off her issues with her non-communicative son's behavior. "I am fairly certain you told me that once. Well here's the perfect opportunity to help him relax a little around you," Dr Hopper had added, hunting distractedly for a pen. "Matt even says he'll do it for free."

"Why?" she had demanded, incredulously. Few people in Storybrooke liked her enough to do anything for her. Not anymore. All she felt all day, every day, were their hard, judging eyes, assessing her for signs she actually had a heart. Hateful people. If only they knew WHY she'd driven their beloved sheriff out of town.

But they didn't matter. _She_ was gone. What was done was done. She told herself that every morning when she stared into the mirror, trying to squeeze the drug-induced sleep out of her eyes. Eyes, if she was being truthful, always looked dark now. Tired. Sad. No sparkle, no enthusiasm.

But she had little that interested her now. She had been ignoring the overtures of Kathryn for coffees - no longer willing to hear her silly little sessions about her pseudo husband, and her kind, _far, far too kind_, entreaties imploring her: "But enough about me, how are you Regina? _Really?_'' Often these moments involved some hideous hand pat as though she were a weak traumatised child. And Kathryn didn't even know what had happened.

She particularly never stopped when she saw Mary Margaret, and often actively crossed the street in case the teacher was seized by one of her maddening urges to "process'' Emma's leaving with her. Huge, emotive eyes would pin her like she _understood_. She would say she was _sorry_ but it was how she said it. _She knew._ All of it. It was vulgar. Too much compassion was just ... she shook her head in irritation. It was not what she needed, not now, not when she needed to be strong to get through this.

Emma was gone. That was what she had requested. And that was just how things were.

Only one person mattered now. And that was why she had gone to the psychiatrist's office. To see the annoying little cricket with his appalling opinions and _knowing _gazes. It made her teeth itch.

Hopper had been saying something. She had blinked and tried to focus. _Oh right. Some stranger at a random stable she'd never heard of wanted to give Henry free riding lessons. _If that didn't sound suspicious for fifty different reasons, nothing did. She had eyed him sideways, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Matt is very appreciative and thankful to you," Dr Hopper had explained, finally digging up a pen and scribbling out an address.

"Well, to be precise, thankful of the mayor's office funding his charity program all these years."

Regina had blinked at that. She couldn't even remember such a program ever being approved involving stables.

She'd thought back. It was probably wrapped up in the bundle of charities she had set up when she'd first arrived in Storybrooke - upon learning leading politicians were expected to champion community endeavours. Something about keeping the citizens thinking she had their interests at heart, or something suitably electable like that. She hadn't even thought about that in years. Clearly the funding had simply kept on going through to the various charities with a tick from some City Hall bureaucrat or other, uncontested by anyone.

She had nodded to Hopper as if she knew all about the stables and glanced at the address. It was out on in the middle of nowhere. _Of course it was._

The infamous Matt was now up close and she could see his wide face and open smile, assessing them both. For some reason, the way he looked at her annoyed her immensely. As if he knew who she _really_ was under the confident mask of indifference she carefully projected. _The impertinence._She was glad of her large, dark Prada sunglasses hiding her frown.

Henry, on the other hand, had responded to the man's open smile with a quick toothy grin, which irritated her even further.

_When had her son come to despise her so much that even a random stranger elicited more emotion from him than she did? Well, positive emotion at least._

She knew the answer to that, of course, but ignored it, squelching down her list of grievances for now.

"Madame Mayor," the broad-shouldered man said easily and offered his enormous, calloused hand out to her. She flicked her eyes over his broad flannel-shirted chest, well-worn jeans and scuffed boots. Nothing on him was for show. With some reluctance she shook his hand, grateful when the gorilla of a man didn't vibrate her off the ground.

She nodded once.

"So did Archie explain what all it is I do out here?" the gruff voice asked.

"Riding lessons?'' Regina replied automatically but suddenly feeling less certain. She hadn't actually asked Archie. _Hang on, why was the Mayor's office paying for people to learn to ride? That made no sens..._

"Hah," he said with a grin. "Not quite. Yes - but not quite. One of the things I do is help Storybrooke's troubled youth. You take a messed up kid, maybe one who's run away from home, or from a real bad abusive situation, and you help them bond with a horse, and learn how to take care of it and then learn to ride, and it can do wonders..."

Regina suddenly ground her molars together, seeing a flash of red rising.

"Come on Henry," Regina said sharply, turning away. "You've got your wish, we're leaving."

She placed the flat of her hand on her son's shoulder and propelled him around and away from the man whose mouth had just dropped open in surprise. "Whoa, there,'' he called out. "What in the hell just happened?''

"Henry go wait by the car." Regina was almost trembling with fury.

"But Mom - I want to see the horses!"

"NOW, HENRY."

She waited until Henry was halfway there before she whipped around to face the man.

"How dare you?!" she hissed. "I don't know what Hopper told you but my son is certainly NOT from a 'messed up' home; he does not have a 'real bad abusive situation' as you call it and he doesn't need some kind of soothing animal therapy because he is coping with having an abusive parent in his life."

"Well now, I never said he did," Matt said, ramming his enormous fists into his jean pockets and tilting his large head back. "I was explaining what my day job is. That's about _other_ kids. Court makes an order, see, sending them here. Sheriff drops them off for a stay, like a week or a month or so. Well our sheriff _used_ to do that that until she ... _you know_." He coughed and looked at her uncomfortably. "Well, uh, so then I help them and get their lives sorted a bit more. Teach them to have calm and patience and sometimes they even learn to love. Love between a person and animal is pure - it's not conditional, see." He shrugged. "But I never said that was what young Mister Henry was here for."

Regina felt her jaw working, trying to maintain the anger. Finally she sighed. She glanced at the slumped form of the boy leaning sulkily against the car in the distance and then turned back to the stables owner.

"I misunderstood," she ground out with effort.

Matt eyed her closely as if debating what to do with her non-apology. Finally he shrugged his enormous shoulders and gazed off in the distance.

"Awright then, first one's free," he said genially. He then pinned a hard look on her. "But next time we'll have to have a discussion bout that temper of yours, Madame Mayor."

Regina's eyes bulged and her mouth snapped open.

He put up his hand to stop her. His eyes had lost their amusement, and she could well see a man who could put a juvenile delinquent in his place with one quelling look.

"I meant from the point of view of my animals. Horses sense tension, y'see. They plain and simple don't like us humans all worked up. Gets them anxious and twitchy as hell. And if you're going to be flying off the handle at every little thing around them, then maybe we should shake hands right now and go about our separate ways."

He paused a beat and then added thoughtfully, "But then that'd be a real shame for young Mister Henry over there."

Matt folded his arms, muscles bulging from under his flannel, and waited as Regina weighed up her options.

Regina sighed and thought furiously. She did not know how much longer she could endure Henry's attitude. The sullen looks and hateful stares. If he spoke a single sentence to her, it would be a miracle. And today he had already spoken twice. It was progress. And he'd asked her for something. That had been awhile, too.

"My son would like to see the horses," Regina said through gritted teeth, forcing herself to reign in her emotions. "Perhaps we should start there?"

"Now that sounds like a sweet idea," Matt said neutrally. "I understand you are a horsewoman? So you can help him learn when I am busy with other students."

"Wait, we don't get private lessons?" Regina asked, not intending it to come out as harshly as it did. But her nerves were frazzled.

"I am a busy man," Matt replied, "There is only one of me. And I have some kids who need me a whole helluva lot more than your boy. The stories they come to me with..." He faded out and his eyes squinted. "There will be times when you and Henry will have to do your own lessons."

"But I..."

"No," Matt said firmly. "This ain't a negotiation. Besides, I think you two could use some practice getting along, don't ya think?"

Regina's eyes narrowed warningly, ready to cut him to the quick, but Matt turned away, calling over his shoulder: "Follow me." He threw his voice louder, towards the car. "You, too, young Henry."

She watched from the corner of her eye as her son lost his listless pose and suddenly bounded to his feet and scampered towards them.

_Well, that was new._ Just for a moment, when a smile spread across his face, she thought she could see Emma in it and it brought her up short. She quickly hid the dismay and rush of sadness but not before Matt had eyed her sideways and caught the look. She saw an unmistakeable expression before he smoothed it out and he glanced away again. _Understanding_. What exactly he thought he understood she couldn't be sure, but the look was enough. Her dark mood returned with a vengeance and she viciously kicked a clump of dirt with her boot.

She had never despised the town of Storybrooke and its equally cloying people more than at this moment. Her hands formed furious fists as she marched onwards.

_How in the hell was any of THIS her happy ending?_

* * *

Author's note: God, please, no one speculate Matt and Regina are getting married. This is a _Swan Queen_ story. OK? Just making that perfectly clear. I wouldn't do that to you. (Or me.)


	27. Chapter 27

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By Red Charcoal**

**CHAPTER 27: DIFFERENT**

* * *

STORYBROOKE PAST

"So, that's why I'm leaving David."

Kathryn came to an abrupt halt and looked at Regina expectantly. The mayor, startled, blinked quickly and tried to focus. She had been trying to care, trying to pay attention to the end of this story about a monumentally fake marriage for two fake characters living fake lives, but frankly it was getting difficult.

She knew her old self might have urged them to give it one last go for the sake of ... God, knows what, but she'd have thought of something. And she would have been convincing, too.

But her heart was no longer in it. She looked at her lunch companion and wondered how she'd finally been roped into this meeting.

Kathryn must have caught her on a weak day, still buzzing after Henry had spoken more than three words to her. All about horses, sure, but it had lifted her spirits briefly. Until he remembered he hated her and clammed up and went back to pushing his eggs around his breakfast plate sullenly.

"You have to do what you think is best, Kathryn," Regina found herself saying, even as a part of herself began screaming at the back of her brain. She ignored that incredulous voice. She was getting good at ignoring a lot of things lately. Life. Purpose. Emotions. Especially emotions. They were simply surplus to requirements.

"And you know in your heart what is right and what is working," Regina concluded unconvincingly. _Hadn't she heard that line in some movie once? The all-purpose appropriate saying to one's "BFF" declaring a major life change?_

Regina saw the flash of gratefulness wash the other woman's face and felt a little ill. She turned to gaze out the window of Granny's diner, and wondered briefly what her companion would say if she knew her true love was right now unpacking boxes in the local supermarket. And that Regina had been the one who had saddled her with some idiot husband too cowardly to end a clearly failing marriage himself.

"You're a good friend, Regina," Kathryn was saying and Regina faced her again with an inward sigh. _Here it comes._

"But enough about me, tell me about you. I hear you and Henry have been out at White Rocks Stables lately. That's lovely."

"Word travels fast," Regina said dryly lifting her coffee to her lips. "Who told you?"

"David," she replied. "He heard from Henry's teacher. M-Mary Margaret."

There was a long silence as that poisoned name fell between them. A world of charged conversations lay unspoken next to the salt and pepper shakers and half-empty bottle of Tabasco sauce.

"I ... know they're still having an affair." Kathryn broke the silence. "If they ever stopped," she laughed a little shrilly and shook her head. "And I'm ... I'm, in a weird way, glad for him. Maybe they can be happy together where he and I can't."

Regina found herself conflicted. She knew she should probably be stopping this ... what? _Endorsement_ _of an affair?_ But she found only hollowness when she tried to care. It no longer mattered. The curse. Life. Any of it. She couldn't remember a time in her past when she hadn't fought for something. And now, here she was. Just giving up.

Regina said nothing.

"You're different."

The statement snapped her head up challengingly. "_Excuse_ _me_?"

"Whoa, relax. I just mean - there was a time you'd have urged me to stick with David through thick and thin. And then you'd be running down Mary Margaret with some creative insults in a loyal display of solidarity with me." Kathryn gave a small smirk.

"Sorry, dear. Would you _like _me to insult her? I assure you it will be no trouble." She gave a matching smirk.

Kathryn reached over and patted her hand - this time without the condescension. And for the first time Regina almost appreciated the sentiment. Almost.

"No, it's fine. I can mentally fill in the gaps myself with all the slights I am sure you would say if you were in the mood."

Regina gave a small chuckle. "Well thank you. That would save us time."

Kathryn grinned. "I mean it, though. You've changed."

The brunette lifted her eyebrows in question.

"You're not as driven as you used to be. I am a little ... undecided ... whether that's good or bad."

Regina snorted. "Having nothing to live for is definitely 'bad', my dear." She froze and felt a sharp bolt of panic. She certainly had not meant to say that out loud. She quickly slammed down her mask. She smiled lazily as if she had been joking.

Kathryn regarded her with concern and hesitated. "You really do feel that way, don't you?"

Regina shook her head, forced her smile ever wider and spread her hands. "Of course not. I have Henry. He is my life."

She uttered the words, by rote, but even so her mind drifted, and another woman's face came into view. A path not taken. She firmed her jaw and willed the image away. _Why does that woman haunt me even now?_

"Yes, you have Henry," Kathryn confirmed. "And he will come back to you soon, I am sure."

Regina put down her coffee abruptly. She forced herself not to sneer, but her anger was near the surface these days. Happy endings or anything resembling them were definitely thin on the ground. It was hard not to notice.

"I doubt that. He has never forgiven me for Emma ... Miss Swan ... leaving town."

A nod. "He will. Have faith."

Regina screwed up her paper serviette with more force than was necessary. "Perhaps. At least he talks to me about horses now. It's a step up on the silence."

Kathryn eyed her with an expression of complete sympathy and Regina had to shut her eyes. God how she hated that look. She swore inwardly for saying too much. She would have no secrets left with anyone in town at this rate.

"And what of you?" Kathryn asked suddenly.

"What?"

"Do you go riding with him?"

"Why would I do that? The purpose is for Henry to learn to ride. I already know how."

"Regina," Kathryn sighed softly, "I thought the purpose was for you and Henry to bond over something you both love. Or have you forgotten? So next lesson, get up on a horse right beside him. And show him the world that you love."

"The world that I love," Regina repeated incredulously, her eyes sliding assessingly around the cafe. She took in Granny bustling about, a small frown on her face as she attempted to read an order without her glasses on. She was mundanity personified. Ruby squeezed past her holding a plate of toasted cheese sandwiches, faintly burned. Someone had clearly tried to scrape a layer of charcoal off instead of redo the sandwiches. How _pedestrian_. Their eyes locked for a second and the waitress glared darkly and kept moving.

Patrons seated around the diner, backs to her, were all people who actively disliked her. Her head twisted to the right and she looked outside. Cars slowly making their way up main street. _None yellow_, her brain cheerfully supplied before she could stop it. An old lady with a hat three decades out of date shuffled by. A man with an umbrella and a spotted dog was strolling. Like some absurd caricature. Everything felt two-dimensional. Faded, like an old photo on a wall. Even people's reactions towards her of late all felt like they were hammering away at her from miles away. Through frosted glass. Was anything real?

_What an absurd question. Of course not._

"This is not the world I love," Regina growled harshly and pinned Kathryn with a cold look. "None of it."

Kathryn leaned back on her chair thoughtfully. "Fine. Then make it one you do love."

"If only it were that simple."

"It is," Kathryn said with conviction. "It's what I am doing. Leaving David. Having a life."

"Not really the same thing, dear, but thank you for your concern."

"Regina, it is. All I am saying is tomorrow, get back in the saddle in every sense. With your son. And you will find a new world from up there."

Regina shook her head dismissively. "Not likely. And I do not ride anymore."

"Why not?"

"Bad memories," Regina shook her head again, more vigorously this time. "Stables are not a good mix with me."

"Look, Regina, I get it. I know people can't forget. But why not make some new memories? What have you got to lose?"

She had no answer to that. The mayor rose. "Thank you for inviting to me lunch, dear. I trust your relationship will work out however you desire. But I really must get back to the office. A mayor's work is never done."

"Think about what I said." Kathryn was not easily distracted. Her eyes held an intensity Regina had never seen before.

The brunette turned away with a nod and considered the sentence. Make new memories? It was like some absurd saccharine Hallmark card drivel. _Ridiculous_.

But she could not stop thinking of the words as she opened the door to Granny's diner. She squinted as she stepped out into the light.


	28. Chapter 28

**THE STAIRCASE  
**

**By Red Charcoal  
**

Author's note: Thanks to Exquisiteliltart for helping me this week. She is awesome.**  
**

**CHAPTER 28: POINT OF RETURN**

Regina slid her hand up the mare's muscled brown neck, fingers scritching against coarse brown hair.

"So you must be Peppermint," she spoke softly into the animal's ear. "I'm Regina. It's good to meet you."

"Mom, come on, I wanna go," Henry whined from the other side of the stable. She glanced up to see her fidgety son on a pony which seemed as impatient to get moving as he was.

She frowned. Her son's behavior had barely changed in the three weeks they had been coming to the ranch. He actually spoke to her now, it was true. But not politely. And this was no exception.

Before she could make her objections a masculine voice cut in.

"Now hold on there, Mister Henry, you remember your first time meeting Starfire? You had to git to know each other first, introduce yerself properly. Now your mother's just saying hello to Peppermint there for the first time, and I think it's only right yer patient and polite about it."

His tone brooked no argument and Regina swore she saw a tinge of embarrassed red colouring her son's ears. Matt's opinion clearly mattered more than hers did. _So what else was new?_

She shot a grateful look over to the stable owner and gave her mare a final pat before edging over to its left side. She slid her boot into the shiny stirrup, effortlessly pulling herself up into the saddle, with an ease borne of a lifetime of practice. Or, in her case, practice from a lifetime ago.

Peppermint shifted under her, adjusting to the new weight and foreign rider, and she patted her, murmuring reassurances.

She felt two sets of eyes watching her and felt oddly self-conscious. She didn't meet their curious gazes and instead glanced around for a moment, trying to readjust to being so high up, her fingers automatically readjusting the reins. The feel of the leather … It felt achingly familiar.

An old memory washed over her. Another time. Another riding companion. Brown eyes watching her, stroking her horse's mane as he whispered to her. She swallowed anxiously. The emotion must have shown on her face because she sensed the burly flannel-shirted man beside her abruptly clear his throat and stride off and mutter something to Henry. She looked over to him in confusion.

Moments later Starfire and Henry were plodding off towards a beginner's trail, and Matt was turning back to her.

"Hey now, jes… take your time there, Madame Mayor. It can be an adjustment after a few years out of the saddle. But it will come back to you. No need to be nervous."

Regina tightened her grip on the reins, slightly irritated at being treated like a terrified beginner, but also unsettled he had read her so accurately. Still, the man had his uses. Trying to adjust while under the impatient glare of Henry wasn't what she needed right now. She took about ten minutes to steady herself and her thoughts. She felt a calm wash over her. Matt picked up on it immediately.

"Why don't ya try walking on for a bit?" he asked. "You kin catch up with Henry. He's taking the northern trail. He won't be too far off."

Regina nodded tersely, and without thinking, clicked her mouth automatically while gently applying pressure to Peppermint with her heels. Suddenly she was moving and the sensation was so absurdly familiar the mayor wasn't sure how to react. Instincts took over and she expertly manouvered the animal past Matt.

"Oh 'scuse me, I have a visitor," he called over to her. "I'll catch you both later. Just stick to the trail. It's real easy."

Regina nodded and found herself already adapting to the commanding gait of her horse, powerful equine legs now picking up their pace, clearly itching to be underway. She turned to offer a polite thanks only to catch sight of Matt's visitor.

Regina squinted, taking in the scarf and the solicitous posture that she knew so well now and put her teeth on edge. There was no mistake. She could see Archie Hopper locked in earnest conversation with Matt and they both appeared to be looking her way. She gritted her teeth. She loathed being talked about at the best of times, and if the probing little bug was revealing too much... Dark thoughts skittered through her mind.

She shot them both a filthy look, clicked her mouth again and dug her heels in.

Peppermint launched instantly forward and Regina felt a shock run through her as they surged ahead.

"Regina?!" she heard Archie call out worriedly.

"Madame Mayor!" Matt bellowed at the same time.

She ignored them both and concentrated. She could feel her heartbeat thundering in her ears. Sweat slicked up her hands. It took only a few moments before she caught onto Peppermint's rhythm and began matching it with her own. Her seat steadied, her head and shoulders eased back and she relaxed her white-knuckled grip on the leather.

Then she felt it. What she had felt as a teenager. Why she loved to ride. Freedom. Far from the spidery fingers of her mother's spells. Far from her father's ashamed glances at his boots whenever he didn't intervene in Cora's latest abuse. Away. Far away.

She felt alive.

Matt and Hopper were little smudges behind her. The wind whipped across her face and she realised just how much she missed this.

She couldn't stop a sudden burble of laughter that fell from her lips or the smile that split them wide. It felt… _incredible_.

"Hyah," she cried out and urged Peppermint even faster. In moments Henry was looming up ahead on the trail and with some regret she finally eased back on the reins, bringing the horse back to a trot to match her son's.

"Having fun, dear?" she asked as she drew level. She knew she must look a sight, hair flying under her black riding hat, cheeks flushed, smiling like a fool. She quickly wiped the grin off her face.

Her son stared at her for a long moment. "Sure," he shrugged. "I can see you are."

Regina considered that from all angles for signs of an undefused grenade. _Had he said it resentfully?_ Finally deciding she didn't care if that was some veiled insult, she simply nodded. "Yes, I really am."

Henry stared then, as though the truth was the last thing he had expected. And just for a moment, he seemed to forget he didn't want her enjoying herself and a grin spread across his face.

He looked down at his white and black pony and back at his mother. "Can we canter now?" he asked hopefully.

"Henry," Regina began incredulously, "You don't even know how."

"I know that. So teach me!" He looked at her imploringly and this time Regina forgot there was any tension between them. The years, the divide, everything else melted away. Her smile widened.

"Of course," she found herself saying. "I will. But you can't learn everything in one day."

"Duh, Mom," Henry said with a teasing grin.

Regina smothered a chuckle, which Henry joined in on. She then realised she couldn't think of a reason to hide it, so she didn't. After a few moments the laughter died and they looked at each other a little shyly.

"I've missed this," Regina finally said, ducking her head as they trotted beneath a stand of trees.

Henry eyed her sideways. "You know we didn't laugh much before," he said quietly.

"I know. And that was my mistake. I think maybe I was too … tightly wound up about doing everything right for you as a parent. I didn't want to make any mistakes. But I never stopped to think what that was like for you."

Henry's mouth dropped open.

"What?" Regina asked, puzzled.

"You never talked to me like that either."

"Like what?"

"Like a… a grown-up. Like I can handle the truth."

Regina exhaled ruefully. "I always wanted to protect you. And I really would like to fix some of my mistakes if you will give me a chance. Do you really want us to be at odds like this forever?"

"I…" Henry bit his lip and shook his head. "I'm really mad with you."

"I know."

"If I say yes and forgive you it just lets you off the hook for everything. For driving away Emma."

A silence fell between them. Finally Regina sighed.

"Well if it helps I believe I … I do feel badly that she's gone."

Henry's head snapped up and he stared at her long and hard. "You're lying," he growled.

"I am not," Regina snapped back.

His bottom lip pushed out. "You wanted her gone, and now she is. Do you think I am stupid?"

"Never. But it's complicated."

"That's what adults always say to avoid telling the truth. I am not a little kid. If you want me to believe you then you'll tell me what happened. No one will. I've asked Dr Hopper and Miss Blanchard and Ruby and Emma. And no one will."

"I can't Henry," Regina shook her head, voice cracking. "It's … a lot of really awful adult stuff happened between us and I can't tell you."

Henry glared back at her, outraged. "Can't or won't?"

Regina hissed in a breath. "Both if you must know. And if you knew you wouldn't thank me for having that knowledge in your head. Some things are too awful. I personally wish I could unsee what happened to me."

Henry looked at her in confusion. "B-but that means you blame Emma. That _she_ did something."

"Did you really think Emma Swan would leave town of her own accord for absolutely no reason just because I asked? Because that worked out _so_ well for me when she first arrived," Regina snapped.

That confounded him and she could see the wheels turning.

"B-but she's the good guy. So she must have …" He sounded less certain now.

Regina forced herself not to bite. _The good guy. Of course Emma Fucking Swan could do no wrong in her son's eyes. _

"But…" he faded out.

Finally, as if attributing any blame to his beloved birth mother was too much for his small brain, he gave up and reverted to form. Henry glared at her. "You always hated her. _Always_."

Regina laughed mirthlessly at that. "Oh would that _that_ was entirely true."

Her son gaped at her in complete confusion. She gave a sardonic twist of her lips. "I know you don't believe me but I think… I wouldn't object if she returned."

"Then why run her out of town in the first place?" This was said with a very familiar, very insulting sneer. Clearly he was still unhappy at her challenging his world view of his hero.

Regina sharply pulled on the reins, drawing Peppermint to a stop. She glowered at her son. "I do not have to explain myself to you. I can see treating you as mature enough to have a discussion like this was a mistake. Now if you're quite finished calling me names and insulting my integrity it's time we headed back."

Henry scowled. "We're not even at the halfway mark."

"I'd say we're well beyond the point of return," Regina said sharply. She watched as his shoulders slumped but was satisfied when she saw the left rein being tugged, turning his pony around.

"You're mean." She heard the tiny rebellious mutter, not intended to be heard, and thinned her lips. _So are you_, she thought to herself, eyeing her son resentfully, not for the first time.

* * *

Archie and Matt were deep in conversation on an old wooden bench outside the stables when the horses returned. The psychiatrist had a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and his other was animatedly waving as he discussed something with enthusiasm.

Regina took one look at how in cahoots they seemed and shot them another suspicious glare. Matt saw her first, leaping to his feet and striding over. "How was the ride?" he bellowed cheerfully.

It occurred to Regina that virtually everything he did was at bellow volume. "You took to Peppermint like a pro! She doesn't always like strangers."

Regina slid off the horse, her smooth black boots landing easily on the ground and gave the mare an absent-minded pat. "She's beautiful," she said. "Actually it was Peppermint who was the pro. I merely hung on."

Matt nodded, pleased with the assessment. "Sign of a fine rider that," he offered. "One who respects the animal she rides and gives it the credit. Whoever taught you did it well."

Regina's face fell. A slow and horrible montage appeared before her face before she could stop it. Of her authoritarian tutor drilling lessons into her, and her returning the horses after each lesson to Daniel. Daniel who would take her gently in his arms for a comforting hug and call the tutor a horrible old bat and make her laugh. Then he would stroke her face with calloused fingers and ask how she was. And remind her that he loved her. For a moment, as the scent of staw hit her nose, it was like being back there. Her heart ached. _Hell, there was a reason she'd been avoiding stables for years._

"Mom? What's wrong? You're crying!"

Horrified, Regina lifted her hands to her face and smeared away the betraying salt water. She made her hands form fists at her side, as if bunching the evidence inside them. "Nothing, Henry," she said sharply. _As if he cared._

Matt's voice cut in firmly. "Why don't you go get the saddles off Starfire and your mother's horse there, Henry. And give both a good brush down jes like I showed you."

Henry looked between the two of them for a beat as though he was about to argue. Instead he simply trudged off petulantly and obeyed Matt's instructions.

"Thing about riding is it can bring back a load of memories," Matt offered thoughtfully, fixing Regina with a steady stare. She glanced away, unwilling to see the sympathy in his eyes. Her sight landed on the shape of Archie Hopper stretched out on the bench in the distance still holding his mug. She realised it was as relaxed as she'd ever seen him. Then it occurred to her that she rarely saw him outside of an office setting. Barely knew the man himself at all.

Matt was still speaking and his voice finally seeped back into her brain grabbing her attention.

"Plenty of memories. First time you climbed on. First time you fell off. First time your sweetheart helped you get back up again…"

Regina hissed in a sharp breath and her eyes narrowed as she pinned Matt with a hard stare. "This is NONE of your business. And I will thank you to keep your … pop psychology opinions to yourself. And I don't know what that betraying little weasel Hopper has chirped into your ear but he had NO GODDAMNED RIGHT."

She was trembling with fury, her outrage growing magnificent. She wanted to throttle Hopper and his loose lips. _Why she'd …._

Her thoughts trailed off when she saw it.

_Danger_. Matt's mask slammed down fast enough but it was there. White hot. Warning. And there was also something awfully familiar about him all of a sudden. She felt a shiver rocket down her spine.

"Now then," he began in a low growling voice, "you jes hold your assumings _right there_. Cos I have no idea in Hell what you are talking about and nor do I ever intend to make it my business to find out. But know this: don't you ever insult the good doc and his intentions again. _Ever_."

He let the implied threat hang in the air as a startled Regina inhaled. He straightened and continued, leaning forward as if about to tell her a secret.

"Who do you think took over from the sheriff in bringing me the troubled kids? Archie Hopper. Off his own bat, just stepped up to help out, and haul them out here in his own car. That's why he's here now, to talk over which kids need a ride back to town and when he's bringing up the next ones. He does a helluva lot more good than anyone else in Storybrooke. And _yes_, Madame Mayor, that includes _you_."

Regina felt her face almost go slack. It was as though she had been slapped. Humiliation at her wrong assumptions warred with the rage at his daring to speak to her like this.

Matt leaned in even closer. He smelled of cheap aftershave and straw and earthiness. And power. Something familiar again tapped away at the back of her brain.

Right now he was almost vibrating with indignation. His voice had dropped impossibly low, like a shallow scrape in the dirt. "This may be a hard concept for you to understand seeing as you're mayor and all, but the whole world don't revolve around _you,_ Miss Regina Mills. And we don't all sit about Storybrooke discussing your comings and goings and happenings in your life."

He took a step back and folded his arms defensively. "Now. That's two."

Regina lifted her eyebrow.

"Here's where you give me a good goddamned apology or you and your boy don't ever set foot on my property again."

Regina felt fury rise anew. She bit back her first response. She wanted to gape at the man's audacity, his presumption at treating her this way. Hell, her office held the purse strings to his funding and yet still he would say this to her.

But she also felt the sinking in the pit of her stomach. He wasn't _entirely_ wrong. She had assumed Hopper was here for her and had been gossiping about her. She gave a wry internal laugh. When had she gotten so full of herself? Why had she ever assumed anyone gave a toss about her, anyway? Especially now with their beloved sheriff driven out of town thanks to her.

She saw Matt's jaw working as he waited for her to decide. She glanced back towards the stables where she could see Henry brushing down Starfire, his tongue caught between his lips as he worked, a picture of concentration.

"I'm … sorry." She ground it out, like jagged glass. There was nothing smooth or pleasant about her words. "I leapt to conclusions. I should not have done that."

She crossed her arms, mirroring Matt's pose. They both knew it didn't sound even remotely genuine.

He eyed her sceptically. Then he shook his head in frustration. "You would play games over this?" He seemed disappointed in her. "Ego matters this much to you?"

Regina glared at him but she thought furiously. _Did it? _

She forced herself to be calm. To play the politician. What did it matter? What did her feelings matter anyway? Only one thing did now. So. She would fix this.

Finally she exhaled and looked down. "Old habits," she said quietly. "It is hard. For me." She looked up at him and showed she meant it.

Matt unfolded his arms and shoved his hands in his jean pockets. "Well now, I reckon that's the truest thing you have ever said to me. Alright then. 'Pology accepted. So. Same time tomorrow?"

He was already walking off. Conversation over, it seemed. Regina watched him, surprised at the gear change. He was always doing that. Half-finishing a sentence or a thought and walking away. As though life was too short.

_Maybe it was. _

She thought about that. So many years holding grudges against those who wronged her. Matt let his go after one minute.

She doubted she could ever be that forgiving.

"So is that a yes?" he called out from some distance away now.

"Yes," Regina said, her lips curving into a small smile.

"Good. Till then."

He gave a wave but didn't bother to turn as though something far more important was taking his attention. She watched as he headed back to the bench where Archie sat, picked up his own mug of coffee and resumed his conversation.

_Well. She now knew her place. _

She found she couldn't even be offended. Maybe she really _was_ changing.

She headed over to Henry.

"You OK?" he grunted at her a bit awkwardly. _If that wasn't the question for the year._

He seemed a little ashamed.

"Fine," she replied. "You?"

He shrugged and handed her a spare horse brush. "Yeah."

They worked for a while before a young voice added. "Thanks."

Regina tilted her head. "For?"

"Asking."

Regina looked down to the straw-hewn floor of the stable and tried to hold her emotions together.

She cleared her throat. "You too."

She felt a small arm give her a quick squeeze around her waist and then it was gone.


	29. Chapter 29

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By Red Charcoal**

**.**

**CHAPTER 29: NEW LOVE**

Regina sat in the cubicle at Granny's across from Kathryn and realised she had to stop agreeing to these meetings. She still couldn't quite remember how she'd been snookered into this one, but here they sat. Today her self-appointed BFF was positively aglow. Some new man she had met. In the supermarket. "Imagine that," Kathryn explained excitedly. "In the _supermarket_.''

_Yes_, Regina had mused, pressing her lips together. _Imagine that. _So another happy ending was being realised. If it wasn't saccharine enough spotting Snow and Charming squiring each other openly around Storybrooke these days, now Princess Abigail had found her Prince Frederick.

_Of course she had. _Apparently he also had "dreamy eyes" and a "fascinating insight into the world".

Fascinating insight into the world? _Please_. _He unpacked boxes all week._

The "L word" had come up more than once. _And not even the interesting L word_, Regina mused. Apparently the stockboy prince "could be the one". Regina had all but rolled her eyes.

She wondered how long before she'd be cajoled into maid of honour duties. One thing about Storybrooke - its residents scarcely wasted time in hurtling down the aisle when they believed they'd found true love. She had to consciously prevent her lip from curling at the thought of some hideous costuming confection Kathryn would want to insist she wear.

_Over her dead body._

Still, it could be worse. It was a race to the finish as to whether Kathryn or the nosy teacher would hit the aisle running first. For truly ugly dress confections, she imagined Mary Margaret's romance-novel idea of "pretty" bridesmaid outfits would be hard to beat.

Regina wondered what was the minimum time she could stay for this coffee affair before it would be seen as rude to declare that town business awaited.

_Oh great_, she suddenly remembered. _It was a Saturday._ _No town business._

But she did have an afternoon ride scheduled.

Her mind drifted. It had been six weeks since her first ride and she and Henry had been back almost every day before work or school.

She had grown fond of Peppermint, far more than she could ever have imagined, and she could tell her son adored little Starfire.

Their rides had gone from awkward and monosyllabic to occasionally containing actual chats as they picked their way along one of the various trails that scribbled across Matt's enormous property. Not that they ever talked about anything close to the one thing they probably should discuss. But, for Regina, that suited her just fine.

However that morning, Henry had decided enough was enough. When they dismounted by a cool stream to water their horses, he shoved fists in his grey pants pockets and began.

"_Mooom_."

The tone was beseeching and immediately Regina knew something unfortunate was about to be discussed. She braced herself.

"I have been thinking about what you said. Um. _You know. _What happened with Emma.''

"I haven't changed my mind, Henry," she frowned. "You are too young to discuss this with. And even if you weren't, you're my son. I simply don't want you to know."

Instead of arguing or glowering as he had before, he seemed to anticipate her response and walked to a small log which she had settled on. Lowering himself to sit next to her, he tucked his knees under his chin and looked out over the water.

"I don't need to know everything," he said quietly still staring out. "I was wondering if you could just tell me a couple of little things? Please?"

His eyes lifted to hers and pleaded silently.

"What?" she said and folded her arms. She squared her jaw as if readying for battle.

"This thing that Emma did to you..."

Regina's brow knitted, darkness crossing her expression. Henry saw it and hastily finished his sentence: "Was it an accident? Maybe she ... she didn't mean to hurt you?"

His expression was so hopeful, so pleading. He had obviously been agonising over what his birth mother could possibly have done. And, more likely, the fact she could have done something awful and still be his hero.

"No, she didn't mean to hurt me," Regina said evenly.

She heard a shaky, shuddering breath and Henry looked so relieved she felt her face twist.

"That mattered more to you than that she hurt me?" she asked, incredulous. She was hurt and it showed.

There was silence. Eventually Henry shook his head vigorously and slid big eyes up to her. "It mattered to me the same amount. I don't want you to get hurt. And I don't want Emma to be a mean person. To you or anyone. It's not right."

"What she did to me still wasn't right, no matter what her intentions," Regina snapped.

Henry seemed to think about that and sucked in his lower lip.

"Did you have all the Leopold monster nightmares cos of what she did?"

A pause.

"Yes."

"Does she know that?"

Regina considered that.

"Probably."

"Did she apologise? Did she tell you she was very sorry?"

The brunette sighed. Visions of Emma doing her trial of Hercules for her slipped across her brain. Then the sight of her all contorted, sleeping against her french doors frame - just because Regina needed her - came to mind.

She rubbed her head as if trying to expunge the memories.

"She was sorry," Regina eventually admitted with a puff of breath.

"But you don't forgive her? Is that why you made her leave? Because looking at her still made you super mad?"

It sounded so basic when her son said it like that. He was eleven now, and the world was so straightforward to him. At least he had stopped bringing up evil queens lately. But still, everything was black and white.

"It's ..."

"Complicated," he guessed, face twisting in dissatisfaction.

"You wouldn't understand, Henry."

"You always do that." The pout was back.

"What?" Regina ground out in irritation.

"Assume I don't understand anything cos I'm a kid." He sounded bitter now.

"No, for once Henry, that's not it. I assume you won't understand because..." Regina paused, uncertain as to whether to say the next words. Finally they came out in an unsteady, halting ramble. "Because I-I ... don't really understand why I sent her away either. That day. I just... I still don't know."

And then she realised her cheeks were wet and quickly wiped her eyes. She was far too emotional lately. It was a weakness. One of many failings she had these days. She truly was pathetic.

A small hand slipped into hers and she blinked down at it in surprise.

"I'm sorry, Mom."

She glanced over. "For what?"

"For thinking you just did it to be mean to her."

Regina gave the hand a squeeze.

"Thank you, Henry."

"Does this mean we can invite her back to Storybrooke to live?"

She froze. "Is that what this is about?" She carefully untangled fingers from her son's and cocked her head. "You just want her back?" She couldn't believe it. Her eleven-year-old had just played her like a fiddle. She felt her outrage build.

Henry sighed and grabbed her hand again. "Mom, stop it. NO." He interrupted and brought her up sharply, mid fury. "This isn't about getting Emma back. Although I would like that. Wouldn't you though? Maybe fix some stuff? Maybe?"

"No, Henry," Regina swallowed. " I don't think I could handle that right now."

"So, OK, maybe later?"

"Mmm," she said non-committally. "That would be a bit hard since no one even knows where she is."

Henry's face fell. "Oh, right."

She let go of his hand and rose, and walked to Peppermint. She climbed slowly back into the saddle then looked down. "Sorry Henry. She's gone now. And Emma is never coming back."

* * *

"Regina are you even listening to me?" Kathryn asked. "I wondered if you wanted to double date with us next Saturday."

"What?" Regina's eyes bugged out. "Who would my date be?"

"Matt. From the stables. You talk about him all the time. I found out he's single and available. And I thought maybe you two..."

"No!" she said more sharply than she intended. "He and I are most definitely not dating material."

"How do you know until you try?"

"Absolutely not. Do not involve me in your dating life, and definitely not with that bear of a man. My god, when you get him all worked up and enraged he looks just like..."

Suddenly she knew exactly what he looked like. The blood drained from her face. "Just like..." she repeated softly as she saw the helmeted visage of a man mountain who rode at the head of King George's army and would often wave an almighty battle mace the size of a small tree. She had only ever seen his eyes before, peering coldly out from under all that formidable armour. No wonder she had not instantly recognised him.

He was easily the king's most feared champion. And he boasted a terrifying name to make all enemy armies quake on sight of him.

_Oh hell_, she gasped inwardly. _Her son was getting riding lessons from Grigor the Impaler._

She banged her coffee cup onto the table and scrabbled to her feet. "I have to go," she gasped, grabbing her handbag and tossing some money down impatiently.

"Regina, is everything OK?"

Her answer was the clang of the bell to the diner and the door slapping shut.

Kathryn watched her go distractedly, idly wondering how Regina would feel about being a maid of honour if it came to that.

At the thought of her new love, her eyes glazed over and she smiled. How could Regina refuse such an offer?


	30. Chapter 30

**THE STAIRCASE  
**

**By Red Charcoal  
**

**CHAPTER 30: GODS AND MONSTERS**

Regina took in the musty surrounds of Gold's store, not bothering to hide her distaste. For one so detail oriented in his business contracts, he never seemed to mind clutter and chaos in his shop. She eyed a particularly incongruous pair of large dolls and wrinkled her nose. _Seriously ugly sense of taste, too_.

But she wasn't here to shop.

Gold limped to the counter and smiled. All surface glitter and promise. It made her skin crawl.

"Madame Mayor," the man began. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She ran a derisive finger over the counter and eyed it, expecting to find a layer of grime. Surprised it actually came up clean, she still rubbed it with her index finger insultingly, as she took her time answering.

They both knew this game well. The goal was to seem the least interested and least desperate while doing a deal. So far she was ahead on points, thanks to his unfortunate and curiously emotional business deal recently involving a chipped cup. She was keen to maintain the upper hand.

"Gold," she purred. "I need some information."

"I see," he said neutrally, although she could see by the way his eyes lit up, he was most definitely intrigued. "And who or what has captured your attention today, Madame Mayor?"

"Someone from a place far, far away, where you and I share a history. Someone who, it seems, has also made his home in my little town, unnoticed for far too long."

She paused and pinned Gold with a look. "Grigor …" she waited a beat for effect… "the Impaler."

Gold's face twisted into a parody of a grin. His fingers wiggled for a second before he placed them firmly on glass counter and leaned forward.

"Well, well, Madame Mayor. Now there's a name I haven't heard for many years. And what interest is it to you if Storybrooke houses another mass murderer?"

Regina folded her arms.

"_Another_?"

Gold's smirk moved to downright condescending. "Looked in any mirrors lately?"

"Have _you_?" she shot back in a flash, but she felt the sting nonetheless.

"Please, dearie, I am the god not the monster. After all I created you both."

Regina bit back a retort and eyed the businessman with interest. "What do you mean 'us both'? You toyed with Grigor?"

"Far, far more than toyed. And I can promise you it's a story well worth hearing. But like all things…"

Regina scowled. "What's your price?"

"That depends. What's your interest?"

"Personal. Not your concern."

"Well I can't have you destroying what I worked so diligently hard to create so, Madame Mayor, I really must insist. I would like to know your intentions. _Please_."

Regina glared at the imp and fought to contain her breathing. "I am acting as a concerned parent. That monster is living here, unleashed and unsupervised, and I discovered today he is teaching my son horse riding. Not to mention he is custodian to several Storybrooke youth at any given time. Now if he is not as he appears, if he is training an army… or _impaling_ one … I would rather like to know. _If that's not too much trouble_." She gave him a sickly sweet politician's smile.

In response Gold leaned under his counter, rummaged briefly and pulled out a dusty book. He began to slide it over to the brunette who was reaching greedily for it but he suddenly stopped, clamping his hand down instead.

"You have not agreed to my price."

"You have my attention."

"My price is true love. _Unfettered_ true love."

"_What_?"

"Three lovey dovey couples in Storybrooke are presently spreading their wings or are about to. I am sure you haven't failed to notice romance is in the air. All I want is them left alone. I know how tempting it is for Storybrooke's eternally meddling town leader to drive a pike through the heart of happiness."

He gave her a wide, knowing grin. "Anyone would think there was something you were _up to_ in doing so. A hidden game?"

Regina scowled. "Oh for God's sake, stop beating around the bush. We both know true love could break the curse at any time and I am rather highly motivated to keep it in place. So I ... _course correct_ others' affairs of the heart from time to time. But what I want to know is why do you care either way?"

"My. Business." Gold snapped. "Is it a deal? Don't impede the progress of true love and Grigor's secrets are all yours."

"And by the three couples you mean the two doe-eyed princesses and their beaus, and who else?"

"You really don't know?" Gold looked at her curiously. "Your intel network is really not what it was, dearie. How can you have failed to miss what is right under your nose?"

"Let's just say Sidney Glass wasn't _entirely_ useless," Regina frowned and put her hands on her hips. "Who is the third couple?"

"I think it makes it all the more delicious if you discover that on your own."

"How can I possibly abide by the terms of this deal, if you won't tell me whose love life I am forbidden from meddling with?"

"Simple, Mayor Mills: Don't meddle in anyone's. Problem solved." Gold gave her a smirk and then pushed the book the rest of the way over to her. "Agreed?"

"Fine," she snapped.

She turned the heavy leather-bound book around to face her and lifted its cover. A cloud of dust rose and she peered through it to see spidery writing and a block-etched picture.

It was an illustration of an enormous hulk of a man in battle gear, helmet, and waving a studded mace. He sat on a rearing midnight-black stallion and appeared about to crush the skull of an unarmed villager in rags, cowering before him.

"See anyone familiar?"

"Of course," Regina said impatiently. "Grigor."

"Note the background of the illustration – all those heads on pikes. Women, children, I think there's even someone's puppy over there." Gold tapped part of the ink drawing.

"Yes, fine, we all know the stories of the carnage of Grigor the Impaler."

"Indeed we do, and that's the point."

"What?"

"_It's all lies_."

"Lies? Everyone knows what he did. Children from the old world would tremble when parents warned them to go to sleep or Grigor would come for them."

"Ah yes, Fairytaleland's very own brutal bogey monster. But it doesn't alter the fact he was a fiction."

"Ridiculous," Regina snapped. "I saw Grigor in battle with my own eyes. He was ferocious and larger than life and _most definitely_ exists."

"Oh yes yes yes, of course a man called Grigor existed. But you might say he was the product of our old world's first ever PR battle campaign."

Regina stared at him. "What are you saying?"

"As I recall King George was losing too many men in his battles – and not all due to the enemy. He lost soldiers from desertion. He wasn't a fearsome leader. Yes, the man was cruel enough but he was no rallying point for recruits. Far too _tactical_," Gold said and gave his fingers a wriggling flourish. "However he was tactical enough to call me in for a little favour to fix his image problem."

Regina looked at him doubtfully. "So you invented a villain? A poster child? To make the armies tremble."

"Invent is indeed the right word. I toured George's troops in search of just the man. When I failed there I went to towns and villages until I found a young farmer. Tall and impossibly strong, able to wave a battle mace like it was a toothpick. That he was no killer was neither here nor there. He did fit the costume and play the part and that was all I needed."

"No killer? Are you insane? Everyone knows what Grigor the Impaler did!"

"You are not paying attention, dearie. Everyone knows what Grigor the IMPALER did. And yet the weapon he carried into battle was a mace. Ever tried to impale anyone with a mace?" Gold gave a tiny snort.

"Grigor, the real Grigor, was useless. He was also clumsy with a lance so I gave him a mace so heavy it was all he could do to concentrate on holding it aloft. People were so astonished he could even lift it, no one bothered to notice he was never seen actually killing anyone. In fact, quite the opposite.

"Every time a ceasefire was underway I had to shroud Grigor in a mist because he would be crying so hard over the dead horses on the battlefield. Anything or anyone seen impaled after the shroud lifted … purely magic." Gold waved his hands as if denoting a simple parlour trick.

"So… Matt and Grigor … neither is a monster?"

"No, my dear. Sorry to disappoint."

He paused. "Although I am particularly curious as to why any of this affects you. It cannot be just because your dear baird has riding lessons with him."

"That's exactly why it affects me. I need to know he would never hurt Henry."

Gold eyed her closely. "It's more than that. Why else would you agree to my terms? Terms that could potentially shatter the only other thing you hold dear. No, Madame Mayor, whatever the reason, it must have really mattered to you."

Regina swallowed, willing the hideous imp not to guess.

"Yes, yes, I see it there," a twisted index finger came up and pointed at the pulse point beating swiftly in her neck. "_Fear_."

He leaned closer, capturing her eyes with his own. She could hear the book sliding back across to his side of the table. "Why does this matter so much to you?" he pondered aloud. Suddenly he snapped his fingers and gave a cruel smile.

"But of course," he said. "I had forgotten about your own failed attempt at true love. _Miss Swan I believe_?"

At Regina's startled look, he waved his hand dismissively. "Please, Sidney Glass sings like a canary with the right incentive and a few prison luxuries. As _you_ well know. Of course Mister Glass seemed to think the love was only one-way traffic. I, on the other hand, make it my business to know when love might be a _two-way_ street. You just never know when it comes in handy." He smiled knowingly and Regina suddenly felt sick.

"I have no idea what outrageous…"

"Do not take me for a fool, dearie. You came here because you desperately wanted to know if a monster can ever change. If it can ever become reformed? Cured? Made unbroken? Dare I say … turned loveable?" He laughed. "Do stop me when I score a direct hit."

He leaned close until his lips were almost touching her ear. She forced herself not to recoil. "How crushing it must be to learn Grigor never was a real monster to begin with. So you won't get your answer, after all. You'll just have to live with the crushing fear that you are as unworthy, unlovable and monstrous as you suspect. All the things your own mirror has told you for years, dearie."

Regina gaped at the bastard. Rage and humiliation warring; her fingers tightened into fists at her sides. Her jaw clenched. How could this, this ... creature know any of these things about her? She had barely understood it herself until recently.

How could he know her fears that if she let Emma in, if she pursued this _thing_ between them, that she might be rejected. That Emma would discover underneath it all lay just … blackness. _Worthless, hollowed out blackness._

She hadn't entirely lied when she told Henry that she didn't know why she had sent Emma away. It's just she didn't _want_ to know. Didn't want to admit what she suspected. That she, too, felt something _more_. Something beyond what she was emotionally equipped to give or face. Something that would destroy them both if she had acted on it then.

"Oh dear," Gold giggled. "Did that just shatter any idea you might also be worthy of twu love?"

He dropped all pretence of geniality and a dangerous expression flashed darkly across his face. "I trust you'll remember who you are dealing with the next time you steal one of my prized possessions."

The look disappeared as though it had never been and he affected a pleasant smile. "Now if you're quite finished finding your soul severely lacking, I have work to do. _Dearie_," he added dismissively.

"You…" Regina snarled, eyes narrowed with rage. She hissed at him: "You might be right about one thing, you cretinous little imp: I might still be a monster underneath it all, _thanks to you_. But you are kidding yourself if you think I am the only one of my kind in this town." She raked her eyes over him to make her point.

"And if you truly are a god, then you are Hades, fucking God of the Underworld. You do not even _have_ a soul to be found unworthy of. And, unlike me, _dearie_, you have no one at all who might want to love you. Of us both that makes _you_ far sadder."

Regina spun around and stormed out of the shop and slammed the door so hard the bell flew off and smashed to the floor. She looked back. Instead of seeing the expected smugness from the man who had manipulated her for years, she saw biting pain. Gold caught a glimpse of her watching and quickly bent down, hidden from sight, to put the book back under the counter.

She hoped the bastard choked on his poisonous judgments. _He was just as diseased as she was for God's sake._ The difference was: _she knew what she was_.

Regina paused and leaned against a shop store window.

But he was still right about one thing. She _was_ unworthy. Regina slipped her hands around her coat, hugging her ribs and began to stalk away.

_Yes, she was unworthy. Yes she was blackness personified, the sort of person that someone who was pure goodness might reject._ _But she was _damned_ sure she was not going to stay that way. _

She'd let other people's opinions of her matter for far too long.

Decided, she slipped her phone out of her pocket and dialled a number.

_Time to see if Dr Archie Hopper was as good as he thought he was. _

* * *

**BOSTON PRESENT DAY**

Emma looked at the small cardboard square in her hands and glanced at Regina. "Those two? Really?"

Regina nodded.

"Well 'bout time they tied the knot. Guess they were just waiting for Maine's laws to change."

"You knew?"

"Of course. There's only so many times I can turn up at seven in the morning with one of Storybrooke's young troublemakers in tow to find Archie coming out of Matt's ranch house, half awake, with _really_ bad bed hair. Of course I knew. Sides, he was so happy around Matt. Kinda had a goofy glow to him."

Regina smirked. "Well the deliriously happy couple asked me to tell you they would be delighted if you would attend as my date. Matt says he misses the way you told the kids to stop sassing you. He says and I quote: 'Most creative non-curse words I ever dang heard'."

"It's a skill," Emma said nonchalantly. "I didn't realise you knew Matt." She turned the card over and noted the details and date. She tried not to notice how hard her heart was thumping at the thought of going back to Storybrooke, to a wedding no less, with Regina proudly at her side. Not some dirty little secret. _That would be new. If she agreed._ She bit her lip.

"He taught Henry to ride."

"Right," Emma answered distractedly.

"Sorry dear, did I lose you?"

Emma's eyes flashed up. "Is that a trick question?"

A silence fell between them and Emma realised Regina hadn't been doing her usual clever little word plays. She looked startled and genuinely taken aback by the question.

The mayor's face assumed a serious expression. "I don't know Emma, and that's another reason I am here. To find out."

The blonde swallowed, unsure what to make of unvarnished honesty from the mayor. It was so out of character. "Just how many reasons are there?"

"Well I can give you a whole list if it would help. Henry also wanted me to invite you to his 12th birthday next month. We both agreed you'd never believe him if he emailed you and told you I'd given permission for him to ask, especially given how many times he's lied about obtaining permission from me in the past."

She quirked her lips in a way Emma found impossible not to define as completely adorable.

"Well, yes, it was his modus operandi for a few years," Emma agreed with a laugh.

Regina smiled and leaned forward. "I love your laugh," she husked and then slipped her fingers through Emma's on the table.

The blonde started in surprise and quickly retracted her hand. "OK who are you and what have you done to Mayor Mills? You know, the superbitchy, bad-ass town leader who hated my guts, even when she was trying to leap my bones, and who also spent a good part of her time trying to run me out of town. Before she finally _did_ run me out of town, I might add, simultaneously completely and thoroughly breaking my heart."

Silence. All Emma could hear was the pianist in the background and her own thudding heart. Cards on the table time. She watched Regina anxiously.

The brunette dropped her gaze and nodded pensively. "Contrary to popular belief, dear, I never _entirely_ hated your guts, as you put it. It was more a question of degree at any given time in history." She slid her gaze up to hers from under hooded eyes.

"Uh huh," the blonde whispered and gazed back at her sceptically. _God it was hard to stay mad at her._ "I mean it. Who are you? You're so different. Good different though. But still..."

Regina suddenly rose and smoothed her hands down her beautiful ebony suit. She grinned, and in the dim lighting all Emma could see was white teeth. _How did she do that? Make even her teeth look like perfection?_

The brunette didn't answer but instead held out her hand. "Miss Swan, would you care to dance? The answer to your question may come to you when we're cheek to cheek."

Emma paused, unsure if her jangled nerve endings could cope being that close to all that mayor for yet another dance. "I…"

"Come, my dear, let's light up Boston's oldest ladies club and make every woman in here gape at us. Make Miss Understood earn her keep. Oh and I promise to make it a dance and a night you will never forget."

Emma slid back her chair, and stood. "That's a promise I will keep you to," she said with an amused twist of her lips.

She did not tell her she had already kept it, as Regina led her to the dance floor, an arm slipped possessively around her waist.

_God help me_, were the last cogent thoughts Emma had as Regina Mills firmly pulled her close, her cheek brushing against Emma's.

.


	31. Chapter 31

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By Red Charcoal**

**CHAPTER 31: BIT BY BIT**

**.**

**BOSTON - PRESENT DAY**

Emma felt her body mould into Regina's as they swirled around the dance floor, ebbing and flowing with the pull of the music. It was like they shared the same pulse, and knew instinctively where the other was moving.

The room was watching them, just as Regina had predicted, but Emma forgot anything else but the woman whose arms she was in as the dance became more intimate.

Emma found the friction of sliding against the brunette's breasts and belly and thighs intoxicating, and when Regina pulled their hips closer, she sighed.

_Or was it a moan?_

_Shit._

A twitch of a smile on the other woman's face told her that she'd heard it, too, and Emma quickly turned her head into Regina's shoulder to hide her embarrassment.

She felt gentle fingers scribble through her cascading blonde curls and then cup a palm comfortingly over her head. The soft touch then slid down her cheek and finally under her chin, tilting up.

Lips danced across the edge of her ear as she leaned forward and whispered softly. "It's alright, Emma. I feel it, too."

The deep red lips briefly lingered and dropped, then grazed her neck. Goosepimples spread across Emma's sensitive flesh and she bit back a gasp.

"Regina," she growled, "I am supposed to hate you right now. F-for ruining my life. You are making it very hard.'' Her last words came out like a confused plea.

She felt the lips curve into a wide smile against her neck and then the brunette's face lifted away from her. Emma mourned its warmth and fell into the lure of soft brown eyes.

"I know, dear. If it helps, I never succeeded in hating you in all those months I tried, either. Perhaps ... some things are not meant to be?"

* * *

**STORYBROOKE - PAST**

Regina felt the coolness of the window in Archie Hopper's office against her skin. It was small but it gave her a break from looking at him. She didn't want to read his particular expression or sense him trying to process her pain.

She was tired of being in pain. She knew that much. And tired of being a pawn. She wondered if any of her adult life had actually been directed by herself. Not the small decisions - the petty scheming and minor victories. The big picture. Was any of it from her at all? Rumple had reminded her more than once over the many months since he had been cognisant of his true memories that she was his monster. Built and constructed from pure Gold.

But the yoke at her neck seemed to bite deepest right now. She wasn't sure why she cared or noticed more at this moment, but she did. And she needed the bug to tell her why. And to fix her.

She sighed and watched as the glass fogged up under her breath. Regina could feel the psychiatrist's eyes on her back. The problem was the starting. Silence had been dragging on for fifteeen minutes. Archie watched her curiously while she watched the view.

"Ever been in love, Doctor?'' she finally drawled and turned to look at him. Her smug expression hid her anxiety well. _Well, the best defense..._

To her surprise she saw a faint rising of red up his neck. She lifted her eyebrow. _This was new._

"We're not here to talk about me, Madame Mayor,'' he said and rapidly removed and began to polish his spectacles. "There had to be a reason you urgently requested this meeting."

"So you _have_," Regina smiled a catlike smirk that was both disarming and dangerous. She gazed at him knowingly. "Do tell me who she was?"

Hopper hesitated.

"Or ... still is..." Regina amended at the sight of his nervous twitch.

He twitched again. Her eyebrows lifted even higher. "Or _he_ is?''

His mouth opened then shut.

"Stop me when I get to polyamorous or even rarer choices." She arranged her features into false earnestness and added with a wicked smirk: "No judging, dear."

"Mayor Mills," he sighed, "What would you like to discuss? You pulled me out of a meeting stating you had urgent business, and I really think maybe that's what we should talk about. We both know you have no interest in my love life."

She folded her arms and her jaw worked. "Fine. I want to make some changes."

He scribbled something in his notepad and she strode over and glanced down before he slapped a piece of paper on top of it.

"You wrote down 'cereal'?" she accused, towering over him. "Are you doing your shopping list now?"

Archie blushed hotly. "I just remembered I was supposed to pick some up and then you called and ... I didn't want to forget when I remembered just now."

Regina tried hard not to gape at him. Suddenly it seemed so surreal. It was difficult to remember the bug had a life. That Archie Hopper was a real man - or insect - underneath all his feverish busybodying. A man who bought cereal and dog food and, it seemed, even had a mysterious lover.

She wondered if she liked him more or less knowing this.

She tilted her head. "Who are you seeing?"

"Why?"

"Just curious."

"No you're not, Madame Mayor. You're stalling. Or else the topic of romance is high on your agenda right now. Do you really want me to speculate further on that possibility?"

Regina scowled. "No. I do not. And this meeting is not about Emma Swan."

"Who mentioned Emma?"

Regina ground her teeth. "You. Often enough. As if everything comes back to her."

"Does it?"

"See! You're impossible." She gave her head a frustrated shake. She lowered her voice to a growl. "I told you once I was broken. I am here because ... I want you to fix me."

Archie blinked in astonishment as if honesty was the exact last thing he expected from her.

Regina rolled her eyes. "Oh by all means, let's consider this request as grounds to gawp at me. Is this task so impossible it is laughable to you?"

The doctor peered up at her, observing her now pacing in front of his desk. "Do you think it is?"

"Would I _be_ here if I thought so?"

"Perhaps," he replied non-committally. "By the way, how's the horse riding coming along?"

Regina paused, disconcerted by the abrupt shift in direction.

"Fine. Henry and I are getting on much better. We have had some talks about ... painful things."

She licked her lips nervously and flicked her eyes back to him. He was gazing at her sympathetically and it was starting to give her a headache. She returned to her spot at the window, staring unseeingly out.

For a moment she could not decide what she was doing here. It was insane. Sharing her secrets and lies and much worse with this ... this bug of a man. Who got his degree out of a curse for God's sake.

She grimaced. Maybe she should just leave. Yes. She would just ...

"Nothing changes, you know," the doctor's voice noted quietly, as if reading her mind. "Nothing. Until you finally talk. Share. All of it. Not just the broad brushstrokes but everything you've left out. It's up to you, of course. But if you really want help - to be fixed as you call it - you have to take a risk. But everything you say will be strictly between us."

Regina tilted her head against the window pane. Thoughts crowded in. Memories, some too horrific to bear, others almost white noise now. Pros and cons. Her old life and new. Hopper wasn't kidding. It was a high risk.

"I am not sure I can," she finally admitted. "I just don't ... I don't think I..."

Silence sat between them for a few beats.

"And yet something made you call me," Archie inserted thoughtfully. "You came here for a reason today."

Regina nodded and thought over her conversation with Rumple. Some days he enjoyed comparing her to her mother, just to sink the poison in. Other days he would remind her of how she hated what she saw in the mirror. Or he would invoke his "pleases" just to mock her powerlessness. He knew her far too well. It was galling. And shameful. And today felt like too much. She was sick of it.

"A reason to do with love, perhaps?'' The doctor's voice cut through her meandering thoughts.

She started in confusion and glared at him indignantly.

He lifted a hand in a peace offering. "Well you asked about my love life. As I said, it was a safe bet romance was on your mind somewhere."

Regina's shoulders sagged. _Romance_. Such a quaint word. The sort of word for young lovers, not the warped expressions of sexual conquest she liked to engage in.

Romance goes with youth. Not tired broken mayors at the end of their tethers.

An old image floated across her mind. Of beauty. And perfect romance.

"I was in love once," she heard a whisper that floated into the glass. She closed her mouth, surprised to find she had said the words out loud. "I mentioned him to you once before. His name was ..."

She faded out. Hell. She couldn't do this. If she said the name she would say the rest. And she could not say the rest.

She swallowed. Her hand was trembling so she turned it into a fist against the wooden pane.

"I can't."

She shook her head firmly. Decided. She angled her head slightly to gauge his reaction.

The doctor's face softened and he eyed her kindly.

"_Matt_."

"What?" She turned fully to stare.

"I am dating Matt Grigorieva. From the stables. We've been seeing each other for 18 months. I never thought I'd ever find love, Regina. But there you go. Sometimes it just happens," he gave a boyish shrug, "And with the person you least suspect."

Regina blinked at the news and realised that so much now made sense. Matt's fury and defensiveness at her running Hopper down. Why the psychiatrist always seemed to be at a horse ranch in the middle of nowhere at all hours. Why he seemed so much more alive lately.

_Love does that._

She frowned.

"You think by telling me about your love life, I will tell you about mine?" she challenged in a dangerous drawl. "Not very professional, doctor." She raised her eyebrows archly.

"I just thought you have enough secrets for both of us," the doctor replied casually. "And I have no reason to hide mine. It was just habit. After all this time, I don't even know why we are hiding anymore. Secrets only have power if we let them."

He paused and eyed her pointedly. "You know what I mean, Madame Mayor."

She did. She found her hands had stopped trembling and thought for a moment. She finally walked over to the chair opposite him and sank into it. She slid her eyes up to the psychiatrist's and gave him a quizzical stare.

"So. _Matt_," she confirmed. "You're dating Matt." She felt the disbelief in her tone the moment she said it aloud.

Archie beamed this time, even in the face of Regina's less than exuberant response, and then nodded.

"Yes."

The absurdity of this mousy bespectacled little man falling for the mythical man-mountain that was Grigor the Impaler seemed beyond ridiculous. But she couldn't deny how happy he now seemed.

She had felt that way once. "Good for you," she finally muttered when she realised he seemed to be waiting for a reaction. She glanced down and fidgeted with her hands. She twisted the small green-stone ring on her finger and sucked in a deep breath.

_Secrets did have power._ She grimaced. And she was so very tired of feeling powerless.

She cleared her throat and in a small, nervous voice began.

"His name ... was Daniel."


	32. Chapter 32

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By Red Charcoal**

**CHAPTER 32 - RESOLUTE**

BOSTON - PRESENT DAY

Regina leaned against the wall outside Emma's apartment and observed her under hooded eyes. Emma watched her back. She swallowed nervously. Their night had been ... incredible. And terrifying. And seductive. And terrifying some more. And a little surreal.

When they had finally left the dance floor after what had seemed like hours moving in each others arms, they had felt the room's eyes on them once more, with expressions ranging from envious to downright slack-jawed. The mischievous pianist had been unable to resist marking their departure with a few bars of The Wedding March which had stopped them both dead in their tracks and elicited titters around the whole room.

Emma had shot her fiercest glare at Miss Understood, throwing her hands to her hips in warning, while Regina had bitten back a smirk, whispered "Come, dear," before gently drawing her over into the candle-lit dimness of the body of the club. Miss Understood had promptly returned to her scheduled set list, not without an unrepentant - and clearly audible - snort of laughter.

And now they were home. Emma glanced at the slightly flaking paint on her front door and wondered why she hadn't noticed it before. She could smell Regina's unique scent, mixed with the slightest hint of perspiration from their dancing, and something else. Something far more erotic.

She swallowed again.

"D-do you want to come in?" she finally asked, self-consciously jerking her thumb towards the door. She smoothed her hands down her dress when she realised how clammy they felt.

Regina's eyes flashed darkly with desire at the stammered question and it was almost Emma's undoing. "N-not for th-that. I meant we _talk_." God, she could barely get words out. She gulped. The way Regina was looking at her was simply...

"_Yes, Emma_," Regina interrupted and enunciated in a low, husky voice, "I would." She stepped even closer and Emma could feel the mayor's body heat through that impossibly sexy dark suit. "I would be most intrigued to see where you live now. I had often wondered."

Emma's mouth twisted in amusement at that. "It's not much," she replied fumbling through her handbag for her house keys. "But it's more than I had. In Storybrooke."

She flicked her eyes up to Regina's and found her expression unreadable. The key slid into the lock on the third attempt, and not before the brunette had whispered near her ear "Relax, dear."

Inside the apartment she looked around with a critical eye, trying to see her home from Regina's point of view. It was no mansion, that was for sure.

She took in the small two-seater grey sofa she'd acquired from a thrift shop, and the unmatched chair opposite. A TV - an old analog, square ugly thing her neighbor was about to toss when his flatscreen plasma arrived - sitting on a wooden fruit crate. Well, it was practical - the right height for the bunny-eared aerial to give passable reception.

She could see the brown and cream patterned peeling linoleum on the kitchen floor, and the 70s green laminate benchtop which she never looked at too long as it gave her a headache.

The fridge was newish, but small - definitely for a single person. She glanced over to her bedroom door. Shit - it was open. Her cluster fuck of dresses still lay like a rainbow explosion all over bed. She _really_ hoped Regina wouldn't look that way.

She heard the front door snick shut behind them and the lock turned with a loud clunk.

"Safety first," Regina drawled. "I hear Boston is full of criminals and dangers and ... temptations."

_Could she be any more suggestive if she tried?_ Emma's eyebrows flew up her forehead and her heart began to race. Shit, she felt so lost. She needed...

"Help yourself to a drink in the fridge," the blonde said quickly. "I j-just have to go to the bathroom."

She turned and bolted.

The moment she shut the heavy wooden door and lowered herself to the toilet-seat lid she exhaled heavily. What the hell was she doing? With _Regina_. Her heart-shattering nemesis.

Mandy had given her specific instructions for the evening which she had already violated about a thousand times. Willingly, at that. The recollection of the touch of Regina's hand sweeping across the bare small of her back gave her a shiver. And she knew she had a pool of wetness between her legs and a familiar ache down there that proved exactly how much she missed being in the charismatic woman's company.

_Focus, Swan_, she told herself. _She is here, and you're here, but no way are you gonna make old mistakes and rush things without thinking or questioning. That's where everything turned to shit last time._

She had learned a lot of lessons these past 18 months - and spent a lot of mournful nights reliving her old mistakes. She wasn't the same person who had slowly driven out of Storybrooke that day, a sheen of salt water filling her eyes and a gaping hole in her heart so desolate she feared she would never ever be repaired. Never feel normal again.

It had been a long struggle to claw herself out of the hole. And to feel even remotely herself. Except she wasn't. She was more worn. More worldly. And she was no fool. She was also fucking resolute when she wanted to be. She gave a grim smile. _Yep_.

She rose and opened the bathroom door, which gave a small squeak.

Regina was examining the contents of her fridge like a museum academic would his butterfly collection.

"I'm no expert, Emma," a voice began from within the fridge - clearly Regina's hearing was as good as ever - "But it looks rather like you have left vegetable matter in here so long it may have become sentient." The drawl was back. The sexy one that could undo Emma on the spot in Storybrooke.

_So much for being fucking resolute._ She had the focus of a five-year-old on a red-cordial high.

"Oh yeah, um, I forgot to toss it before I went on my last job. And I only got back today, so..."

Regina finally stood, holding aloft a wine bottle. "Is this one safe at least?"

"Depends," Emma muttered. "What do you want it to protect you from?"

Regina's rich laugh filled the room and Emma found herself grinning, too. She entered the kitchen and pulled out a pair of wine glasses from the overhead cupboards. She gave them a rinse in the sink and, at Regina's sideways look, blurted self-consciously: "Haven't used them in eight months, God knows how much dust is on there."

"Eight months? I would have thought a sexy career woman about town like yourself would be ... wining and dining more regularly?" Regina suggested with a dangerous smirk. It did not reach her eyes. She leaned back against the now-closed fridge door and placed the wine bottle pointedly on the counter.

"Uh... no." Emma's mouth formed a grim line as she hunted for a cork screw.

"Not even the country-singing lawyer earned ... wine-tasting privileges?"

The question was even more edged this time and Emma flicked her eyes up from the drawer she had been rummaging through.

"Please," Emma said with a shrug. "I have a little more self respect than bringing home the woman who couldn't get through starters without hitting on our boobalicious waitress."

Regina smiled at that, her full wide-lipped genuine smile that always brought a wobble to Emma's knees.

"Then Miss Shania was clearly both blind and a fool."

There was a dull thud and they both looked down to find the cork screw bouncing off cheap linoleum. Emma flushed hotly and scooped it up, turning her back to Regina as she washed it down.

_She had to collect herself. _She tried to still her shuddering breath_. She was fucking resolute, goddammit_.

_Fucking. Resolute. _

_OK then._

She turned back, and busied herself with the cork. "What about you?" Emma asked in an unsteady voice. "Any new, uh, paramours since I left?"

There was a delicious cackle from the direction of the fridge. "Paramours?" Regina teased. "How very quaint of you, dear. And no."

Emma snapped her head and pinned the brunette with a look of confusion. "None at all? I mean for the whole 18 months or ..."

"_None_," Regina said, nipping the word neatly as though snipping the stem off a cherry. "_At. All_."

"Oh." Emma stared at her.

Competing thoughts rushed and tumbled through Emma's brain. She wondered if she had broken the mayor, or if she had lost her confidence or no one interested her or... _Shit. What did it mean?_

"You are a hard act to follow, my dear," Regina offered with a small smile, reading her expression. "None could compete."

"I..."

Emma hadn't been exactly celibate. She'd had a few one-night stands here and there. But they had been empty. Bloodless. And ultimately unsatisfying. The night she picked up a brunette just because she had a mayor-esque skirt-suit on was the moment she realised. So she had stopped altogether. She had sworn off all dating until Shania had finally worn her down with her pleasant curves and uncomplicated chatter. But the thought that Regina hadn't so much as touched ...

"I..." she started again.

"You already said that, dear," the brunette purred. She took a step closer. "Need a hand with the wine? I would hate for us to perish of dehydration if we left it up to you."

Confident hands shooed Emma's away, edged the cork the rest of the way out of the bottle and poured it into two glasses.

Emma was then efficiently handed a glass. She stared at it in confusion, for a moment unsure how it even ended up in her fingers. She felt Regina watching her but she continued to gaze into the liquid. It felt like everything was spiralling rapidly out of her control.

Finally she sensed the brunette had taken a step back, and then another, giving her some much-needed space.

"This is a lot for you to process, isn't it?"

Regina had asked her gently, thoughtfully. All trace of guile and charm gone.

Emma looked up at her and nodded gratefully. She latched onto the brown eyes and blurted: "I never thought I'd see you again."

It came out harsher than she'd expected, like an anguished, painful thing. Ripped from her heart. Her hand flew to her chest as if to punctuate where it hurt, and she stared at Regina in confusion.

Regina inclined her head. "I hadn't intended to cause you ... any further pain. Was it a mistake? For me to come?"

_NO!_ Her heart screamed. Her brain twisted itself in a knot over the thought before giving up, undecided.

Regina nodded once and placed her glass back on the counter, the wine untasted. "I see," she said sadly at the silence. "That was never my intent. I should probably..." she glanced at the door.

"NO!" Emma suddenly said fiercely. "Not _again_. You don't just decide for both of us when I am allowed to be in your presence. _Again!_ I just... I need a few moments. I... _Please_. Let's just go and sit."

Hope flared briefly in Regina's eyes and she gave a tiny pleased smile as she followed Emma out of the kitchen.

They walked past Emma's bedroom door, still ajar, and Regina gave a small chuckle at the sight inside, before they headed to the couch.

"Don't say a word, Mills," Emma said grumpily to hide her acute embarrassment at what was on display.

"You should see my hotel room," Regina intoned. Emma's head snapped around, uncertain.

"_Emma_. I didn't mean it _that_ way, I just ... you were not the only one faced with some fashion decisions this evening."

The blonde's eyes swept over Regina's suit appreciatively. "Well I do approve of what won the vote."

"Thank you, dear."

Regina seated herself elegantly on the couch and looked at the spare seat beside her expectantly. Emma instead pulled up an old arm chair opposite and shook her head. "Oh no, I am not getting that close to you and your super pheromones. I mean it. We should talk. _Just_ talk."

Regina's mouth curved into a smile. "Super pheromones? I must say I am flattered."

"Yeah well, it's just a fact. So you keep your perfect suit, and perfect hair and perfect lips over there, and we can maybe figure out whether I am going to Storybrooke."

The brunette smiled at the list of compliments. "No," Emma interjected crossly at her look, "You don't get to look sexily amused either. So quit all the games for five minutes. This is really hard for me.''

"I wasn't playing any games, Emma," Regina protested her innocence. "I have been honest with you all evening."

"Really?" the blonde retorted sceptically. She leaned over to her handbag and rooted around. Finally Emma lifted out the square wedding invitation and flipped it around and showed Regina what was printed on the back.

"No games?" She raised her eyebrows questioningly.

Regina Mills had the good grace to look faintly embarrassed. "It's not what you think."

Emma sighed. "It never is with you, is it?" She put down the invitation and eyed her companion.

"Still, I'm listening."


	33. Chapter 33

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By Red Charcoal**

**Chapter 33: Absolutely No Kissing**

**.**

**BOSTON - PRESENT DAY**

"So, let's hear it," Emma began, eyes flicking to the date on the back of the wedding invitation.

"I would love to know why giving me an invitation to a wedding being held tomorrow...," she paused, arcing her head around to glance at a wall clock, "or, rather _today_ now, isn't some game. Because if you really wanted me to go, wouldn't I get, I dunno, a little more than 24 hours' notice?"

Her mouth twisted down unhappily as her thoughts whirred. "Unless this is your sneaky way of press-ganging me into going before I have time to think about it? Get me with my guard down? Which is it?"

"Do you really think, dear, I would have driven all this way in the hope you would say _no_ to attending?" Regina began, leaning back against the sofa. Her eyes blinked dismissively at the woman opposite as if she were delusional.

"And, really, anyone who knows you at all knows that forcing you to do anything against your will is a fool's errand. As I well know. You are ... endearingly stubborn."

Emma folded her arms in irritation at the assessment even though it was probably completely accurate. The forceful movement instantly pushed her cleavage spectacularly up and out.

Regina's lips parted the tiniest bit. Brown eyes slid appreciatively across the now ample display of pale skin.

Emma gave the mayor a baleful stare as she unfolded her arms again and tried to elegantly readjust the front of her dress. She gave up and let her hands drop to her lap more forcefully than was necessary.

"Then _what?_"

"I ..." Regina furrowed her brow and shook her head. "I almost didn't come here. Or rather I had planned two earlier trips and each time, I didn't actually make it."

"Car trouble?" Emma mocked. "Cos those Mercs are such shoddy, clapped-out bombs. Wreckers yards are full of them."

"Not exactly," Regina pursed her lips. An embarrassed look crossed her features. "More a matter of me not committing to the plan ... fully."

She dropped her eyes down to her thighs and an elegant finger flicked invisible lint off the black pants. It was a careless gesture but Emma could see it for what it was: nervousness.

Then Emma finally caught a clue. "You're saying you chickened out?" she asked in wonder.

Regina's mouth twisted in distaste. She sighed. "In a manner of speaking."

"Well either you did or didn't." Emma was grinning now.

Brown eyes snapped back up again and she huffed. "Fine. I 'chickened out'. I had some legitimate reservations as to how you would ... react to my arrival."

Emma thought about that. She had to admit it took guts to just rock up after 18 months in front of the woman whose life she had nuked to the very core. And vice versa.

"So what changed?" she asked curiously.

"Not _what_ so much as _who_."

Emma was intrigued. "Huh?"

"I had brunch with Kathryn yesterday morning. She picked me up and drove me to Granny's and chattered on and on about some dribble about seizing the day and that was all that mattered. She suddenly declared she hoped I wouldn't be "too angry" with her. I had no idea what she meant. Since she found love she has been making less sense," Regina rolled her eyes dramatically. "So I merely assumed it was her usual hormonally-driven nonsense.

"But when she dropped me off again I found Henry and Dr Hopper waiting by my car. Henry very earnestly handed me my suitcase and said they would wait for me to pack it. They had already packed food and drinks and maps and other essentials.

"Dr Hopper passed me my car keys and told me he and Matt had already made a spare bed up and would be looking after Henry and if I didn't go now, I'd always regret it. So ... I went upstairs and packed ... and drove to Boston. And here we are."

Emma was gaping at her. "Henry and Archie and Kathryn all just teamed up to get you here? With me?"

Regina eyed her solemnly. "Yes. They did. And I suspect they had other accomplices."

Emma raised her eyebrows.

Regina looked down. "David," she began. "I strongly suspect he owns the laser printer Henry printed the maps off of. Ruby, based on the distinctive cherry pie packed - I know it wasn't on the menu at Granny's yesterday so it was made for me. And, uh ..." she lowered her voice to a mumble. "Miss Blanchard. I recognized her thermos in the food basket."

Emma's mouth fell open. "Mary Margaret? No shit? How do you feel about that?"

Regina shrugged uncomfortably. "Coffee was quite good I suppose."

"That is not what I meant. You have hated her forever."

A strange look crossed the mayor's face and Emma gaped at her. "You DO still hate her, right? You sided with Kathryn over the affair..."

"We have a complicated relationship, Emma. I doubt that will ever change. But you haven't been to Storybrooke for a while. A lot of things are different now." Regina shifted on the couch uncomfortably and looked as if she wished Emma would change the subject.

It made the blonde start to wonder what on earth was going on. Two things she knew about Storybrooke that seemed immutable: Its mayor was smoking hot. And its mayor hated Emma's roommate with all the fire of a sun going supernova.

Emma shook her head. _And even that was just the tip of the iceberg._ Henry was now in cahoots with his "evil" mother who he barely spoke to - or so she'd thought. Prickly loner Regina Mills was now having some sort of regular lunch with an actual friend who wasn't on her payroll. And Archie? Regina had called him the worst names when Emma had last been in Storybrooke. "A monument to quackery. Unfit to hold his fake licence," she had snarled one night, pacing the room.

_Whatever that actually meant. _The blonde had never bothered to pick it apart - she'd been too busy marvelling at how sexy the mayor was when strutting around angry.

"OK, then just answer me one thing, because you never did before," Emma said in confusion, rubbing her temples. "What the hell happened to you? Who ARE you?"

The brunette laughed. "Regina Mills," she said with a deliberately sexy drawl. "Just the new and improved version. I told you I have been working on things. It turns out Dr Hopper isn't a complete fool afterall."

Emma digested that. "I don't even recognise you." Her eyes raked Regina's face, as if seeking a sign the woman she remembered still existed.

"I guess you wouldn't," Regina said after a beat. She frowned. "I hadn't really thought of that. But do you approve?"

There was a long silence as Emma bit her lip and debated.

"I am not sure how to answer that," she said, spreading her hands out in frustration. "All this wooing me or wowing me or whatever tonight has been about, it's being done by someone I don't actually know. You look the same, sure, and move the same and even smell the same, but you are nothing like the woman who banished me from Storybrooke and told me never to come back."

Regina sucked in a sip of air and looked shamefaced. "I really am sorry about that, dear."

"I know you are."

And Emma did know that. She could see it on her face. The new, improved, open-faced mayor. It was completely unsettling.

Regina watched her under hooded eyes. Waiting. She seemed to be holding her breath.

"Do I approve?" Emma repeated softly, thoughtfully. "Truthfully Regina? How can I answer? I don't even know you anymore."

Regina's face fell. "Oh. I see."

She looked away, devastation lining her features. A shaky hand rubbed her knee as if punishing it.

Emma placed her fingers on the trembling hand, leaning forward. "Hey," she said and waited until Regina's eyes had slid back to hers. "You didn't let me finish. But I think I would like to find out who you are. Starting with our drive back to Storybrooke. We have a lot to talk about."

The brunette's entire face changed. She didn't even bother trying to hide her reaction. Her words that followed were barely audible.

"I would like that very much."

A few beats passed. Emma tried not to let herself react to Regina's reaction. It would be too easy to just get swept away. Swept back. She glanced at the clock again. "I think probably some sleep is in order, if we're to have a road trip in a few hours," she said. "It's a bit of a drive. We're taking my Bug, right?"

"Over my dead body," Regina snarked. Emma bit back a snicker. _Some things never changed._

Regina's disbelieving eyebrows now climbed to impossible heights. "Besides," the mayor continued, "how would I get my car home? At least you can take a rental back. And look at the bright side, dear, my Mercedes comes with a functioning motor, actual heating and soft leather seats. And we both know you like your leather."

Emma smiled. "No more than you like looking at me in it."

"You flatter yourself," Regina said indifferently. But her eyes twinkled.

"Yeah, right," Emma said for lack of anything clever to add. She looked around. "You can crash on the couch if you want. So we can get an early start?"

Regina looked at her archly. "I may be 'improved', dear, but I have my limits." She pointed at a dodgy sofa spring that was pressing up hard against the upholstery, causing an unsightly bulge. "I suspect I would not survive the night unmutilated."

"Oh yeah," Emma looked faintly embarrassed. "Forgot about that." Her eyes suddenly flicked to the bed she could see through the ajar door of her bedroom.

Her brain almost exploded, as she wondered whether Regina expected her to offer to share. Regina gave a small smile at Emma's obvious panic, the blonde's thoughts clearly written all over her face, and shook her head.

"No dear, it's fine." She gave a casual wave. "I have a perfectly lovely five-star hotel my son picked out for me. And _paid for_ apparently. It seems his credit-card heisting abilities have not abated with time." She growled. "I will be grounding him for that particular endeavour when I get home."

She smiled suddenly to take the sting out of the threat, then rose, straightening her suit's wrinkles with an elegant flick of her fingers and headed for the door. "I will see you tomorrow then. At ... shall we say nine?"

Emma quickly scrabbled to her feet and met her there. "Sure, gives us a bit of decent shut-eye time first. Wedding's not till five, right?"

Regina nodded once. Then she hesitated for a microsecond. Emma saw it, though, and realised. _Oh, fuck. Yeah. End of date. At the door. Awkward kiss-or-not-to-kiss time._

Regina's eyes had flicked a measuring look at Emma's lips.

The blonde hesitated, transfixed by the sight of the brunette's own lips - they were parting and curving in a smile. Perfect white teeth. A hint of a pink tongue. Then the deep scarlet lips closed again.

It was like erotic torture.

"No," the blonde said firmly, pressing her mouth together in a thin line. "You can get that look out of your eye. There will be absolutely no goodnight kisses."

Her words would probably have carried more weight if Emma's hand, purely of its own accord, had not suddenly found itself on Regina's lapel and trailed its way delicately up towards her neck. Her other hand settled on Regina's waist, enjoying the warmth it found there. It squeezed, silently urging her to move closer. Their bellies and thighs collided as Regina obediently complied.

The mayor looked curiously at both questing hands and then back up to Emma. "As I understand it we don't have to be this close _not_ to kiss," she offered with a sardonic smile.

Emma growled. "Stop being a smart ass, Mayor Mills. And I mean it! Definitely no kissing." She gave Regina's lapel a light slap to punctuate.

"OK, Miss Swan," Regina replied agreeably and edged ever-so-slightly closer. "Absolutely no kissing. As you wish, dear."

"It's because I don't want to give you the wrong idea here," Emma whispered urgently, leaning forward a little more as well. "We left on really fucked up terms. Not to mention the 'old you' broke my heart. I cried over you for months, damn it! I hated you. For what I gave up and what we went through and what we shared and how we pretended we didn't and how we left it. And for you saying we could never be friends. I hated that most of all. I really mourned you. I thought I would never see you ever again. So..."

She trailed out.

"I understand," the brunette murmured, and damn if she didn't look like she did. Emma gazed at her for a moment, taking in her intoxicating scent and dark brown eyes. Eyes that seemed to look right inside her, burning. She felt her heart skip a beat. It was hard to focus.

"And besides, it wouldn't be right to kiss someone who's like a complete stranger," Emma suddenly added, moving her lips closer. "That would be weird, right?" She asked the sliver of air between them.

"Yes," Regina muttered. "It would be." She moved closer.

Emma wasn't sure in the end who closed the gap but she remembered later only the glossy dark red lips hovering near hers were suddenly moving against her mouth. Then she lost herself in the sensation. She may have groaned. And then cursed inwardly at herself for doing so. And then moaned again.

_Oh God_ was about all her mind squeezed out before flailing uselessly into white noise.

Regina's lips were like a pure aphrodisiac. She felt liquid heat course throughout her body and her nipples harden instantly, moisture rush to her core and without thinking, her pelvis bucked against Regina's. She heard the other woman gasp and the sound seemed as loud as a gunshot in her ear.

She immediately pulled away, her breath coming in tight, anguished shudders.

That had been _nothing_ like the last time they had both kissed - all angry and desperate and icy up against a wall in Regina's home office. Ferocity and fury in equal measure. Pain mixed with penance. This time ... Hell. Emma could not even put into words the difference. Random thoughts floated past her struggling synapses. Softness. Heat. Passion. Welcoming. And promises.

Regina's eyes were barely open but Emma could see their desire and feel waves of arousal coming from her. Regina licked her lips as if she'd tasted something especially delicious.

"_Fuck!_" Emma husked, green eyes now wide. It was all she could think to say, and she glanced accusingly up at Regina's kiss-swollen lips as though they were the culprit in her complete and utter meltdown. Which of course they were.

_That was so not supposed to have happened. _She dropped her head as though it were suddenly too heavy.

Regina's eyes finally fluttered fully open and her mouth curved into a slow, languid smile. "Fuck indeed," she smirked, dragging her index finger over Emma's lips to wipe away a lipstick smear.

"Don't get the wrong idea," Emma found herself saying. "Please, Regina. That was, I just ... it wasn't..."

Regina looked at her for a long moment before speaking. "Of course, dear," she said and took a step back. "It was what it was. It was simply a long time coming, hence our ... reactions."

Emma tried to calm her ragged breath. "We can't. Again I mean," she whispered. "I can't. It's not ... I ...this is not...I really can't. That was a mistake."

Her brain felt no longer capable of formulating words, let alone thoughts. Her body was buzzing though and she had never felt so at odds. Disparate. Split between heart and soul.

"No," Regina murmured with a heavy, fatalistic sigh. "I understand. That was ... it for us." She looked away abruptly when the blonde nodded gratefully in agreement.

"So, I will pick you up at nine." Regina straightened. It was her professional tone, her face slipping on a neutral mask. Emma had seen Regina treat her constituents to this distant voice and found it achingly lacking. She understood though. Regina gave a tight smile and didn't wait for a reply, just quietly unlocked the door and pulled it closed behind her.

Emma stared at it for a moment, as if unable to believe it had just swallowed up Regina Mills. Then she leaned heavily against it.

Her head was a mess. Her body was a mess of a different sort - on fire. Molten. Burning. She would need a fucking Arctic cold shower in a minute.

But only one thought was now racing through her mind: _How in the hell was she going to survive a road trip with this woman?_

She wasn't entirely sure how she had actually survived a kiss. She drew a hand shakily through her hair.

_This could not be allowed to happen again._ _It was probably just inevitable because of all the tension built up between them. But it was done now._ Her head tilted back against the door with a painful thud. Emma barely noticed.

_It was just a one-time lapse._ She narrowed her eyes and ran a finger absently over her tingling lips.

_And it would absolutely NOT happen again._


	34. Chapter 34

**THE STAIRCASE**  
**By Red Charcoal**

**CHAPTER 34 - STRICTLY BUSINESS  
**

"Sure you've got enough snacks there, Miss Swan? I am certain your high-salt, high-fat, unhealthy food limit was surpassed three grocery bags ago."

Emma snorted as she inserted another bulging bag of snacks into the sleek Merc's boot.

"I can tell you're not an expert at the 'road trip experience'," Emma gave the words air quote marks and grinned. "But I am. And these things you mock are what we experts call The Essentials."

She almost laughed at the brunette's appalled expression and continued: "You will not want to be buying any of the crap sold at the gas stations along the way because they are probably at least three months out of date, stale and have been soaking up gas fumes for a helluva lot longer than that."

She bent forward and shoved one of the bags to one side to squeeze more in.

"May I remind you, Miss Swan, that I did actually drive all the way here without needing to resort to absurd quantities of ..." she waved derisively, "this ... _alleged_ food."

"That's only cos you had half of Storybrooke pack your lunch for you," Emma smirked. "Now come on, let's get the thermos on board. You think you've tasted bad coffee before? It's nothing compared to the sugary oil slicks on offer at some of the diners we'll be passing. I guarantee my brew will at least be an improvement."

Regina handed her Mary Margaret's refilled thermos and their hands touched briefly. Emma froze. She could not deny the effect the mayor's proximity had on her when she felt telltale tingles shoot up her hand. She noticed Regina's movements had also stilled. She quickly moved her hand away from her and curled it into a fist.

"Uh sorry. I'll just..." Emma backed away hurriedly and, for want of something else to do, looked around.

All bags were already packed.

She shoved her hands in her red jacket pockets and glanced back at Regina. The mayor was looking completely stunning in her so-called "casual" gear. She was rocking her tailored dark pants - what else - which were presently showing off one of her best assets as she bent over the boot. Emma's eyes paused on the view.

She also wore a figure-hugging designer white tee-shirt under a thick black coat. It snugly clung to her breasts, defining their shape and giving the blonde more than a few thoughts as to how they would feel to slip her fingers over. If she was interested in such things, which of course, she had sternly told herself repeatedly the night before, she was definitely _not_. _Some lines should not be crossed again._

Regina finally stepped back from under the boot lid, closing it and pivoted, catching the blonde staring.

Emma immediately turned and stomped over to stand by the passenger door, her knee-high brown boots crunching on the gravel. "We ready then?" she asked self-consciously under the mayor's pointed stare.

The brunette gave a small smirk. "Well if by ready you mean do we have enough processed food to cater several arks, then yes, Miss Swan, we are ready."

Emma folded her arms and eyed her darkly.

Regina glanced at her as she strolled to the driver's side. She stopped and asked: "What?"

"Why are you back to calling me that? I thought we were beyond the 'Miss Swan' formalities. Especially after..."

"After?"

Emma blushed and dropped her head. "You know - last night?"

Regina assessed her for a long moment, then slid her designer sunglasses onto her nose. "Oh yes, dear, the 'mistake'. How could I forget?" She opened the door, her mouth set in a grim line.

Emma's mouth fell open. "I ... we..."

"A coherent thought sometime soon would be greatly appreciated," Regina noted and slid into her seat and closed the door with a firm slam. Not before Emma glimpsed an expression of hurt on her face.

The blonde frowned. She opened her own door and sunk into the seat. "Regina ... are you mad with me?" she asked, buckling her seatbelt.

"More with myself," the other woman sighed and adjusted the rear-vision mirror. Her eyes flicked briefly to Emma and then returned to the windscreen.

At Emma's questioning look she added: "Expectations or hopes generally tend to disappoint. But I always knew coming here that things, well, certain emotions or viewpoints might no longer be held ... the way they once were."

She started the engine. "So, for everyone's dignity, let's just keep everything ... strictly business.''

Emma drew her brows together, trying to understand what she was saying. "_I ..._" She faded out when Regina shot her an impatient look and began to reverse out of the driveway. They swung onto the road and the brunette accelerated firmly away.

Emma sucked in a breath. "OK, if that's what you want... Is it?"

"It is, Miss Swan. And perhaps we should now move on from this particular topic? Spare everyone's blushes?"

The blonde shook her head. "How about we agree to postpone it? It's not really a great conversation for us after we've had only six hours' sleep."

"Two." Regina said moodily. She bit back a yawn, hidden by her hand.

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Alright. The topic is hereby tabled." Regina declared as though closing a council meeting. She leaned forward and stabbed a few buttons on her dash. Classical music began to fill the car and Emma rolled her eyes.

"Seriously?" the blonde blurted. "Hours and hours of this shit ahead?"

"Handel is not shit, Miss Swan. What is your preference anyway? Barely legible rappers badmouthing women and boasting of boosting cars?"

Emma smirked and leaned over and punched a different button. "Why am I not shocked you hate rap? OK let's try this." Country music now filled the cabin and a look of horror crossed Regina's face.

"_You must be kidding_," she gaped. Then gritted her teeth.

"Do I look like I am kidding?" Emma leaned back with a laid-back smile on her face and her fingers beginning to tap against the window sill.

"Well that explains why you dated the country-singing lawyer," Regina sniped. "You can share your mutual love of hearing slack-jawed yokels crooning about horses dying and wives leaving brutal husbands."

Emma snorted. "That is not what country songs are about. Well not most of them anyway. Usually it's about lost love and broken hearts. Something I know a lot about as it turns out."

Silence fell between them. Only the music and the road noise swirled around and Regina's jaw clenched.

"I thought this topic was being tabled, Miss Swan," she ground out icily.

"I was speaking generally," Emma lied and turned away. She watched small businesses and street signs blur by. Regina flicked her a disbelieving look which Emma saw clearly reflected in the window glass.

After three blocks, the mayor leaned forward and changed the station to an easy-listening format. Bruce Springsteen began to fill the car.

"A compromise?" Emma asked, her eyebrows rising in question.

"If you want to call it that."

The Boss sang on and Regina stopped talking and began focusing on negotiating the thickening traffic.

Emma gave it a few more minutes and then stretched over and changed the music back to classical. She leaned back with a plop against the dark leather seats.

"Here," she said. "Listen to your dead white guy music. I am going to catch up on a bit of sleep. And for the last time," she mumbled, angling her head against the window, "Shania _isn't_ a country singer."

A small, sudden snort of laughter burst out of Regina startling them both. Emma gave a pleased smile as she closed her eyes.

The last words she heard before she dozed off were an acerbic retort. "Like you would know."


	35. Chapter 35

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By Red Charcoal**

**CHAPTER 35: ROCINANTE  
**

It was the horrifically loud truck horn that woke her. Emma's eyes snapped open at the blare only to find an enormous black shadow filling the windscreen. Heading straight for them.

"Regina!'' she shouted, snapping her head to the left. The mayor seemed to jerk to life and yanked hard on the steering wheel as the heavy mechanical whoosh rattled and battered the Merc. It came perilously close and then it was gone. A derisive second honk sounded as it receded into the distance.

The brunette leaned heavily on the brakes, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and pulled over to the wide verge.

For a moment all that could be heard was the low, patient idling of the engine and the hard breathing of two occupants.

"Close call," Emma muttered redundantly, blinking at the empty road in front of them. She glanced back over her shoulder. "Were you overtaking?"

The empty road yawned behind them. Not a speck in sight.

She swung back to the front and looked questioningly at Regina who simply shook her head.

Emma's eyes fell to the white knuckled grip on the steering wheel. Still holding on tight.

"So how'd we get on the wrong side of the road?" she asked, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "Black ice?"

Another dazed head shake.

Emma leaned over and, one by one, peeled Regina's clenched white fingers off the steering wheel.

"You fell asleep didn't you," she stated gently, massaging the fingers back to a shade approximating pink.

Regina swallowed and turned, her face a mix of regret and guilt and worry.

"Yes," she whispered. "I believe so."

Emma eyed her without judgment and let go of her hands.

"Exactly how much sleep did you get last night?"

"Almost ... I think ... maybe two hours."

"Shit Regina! You should have said - I would have driven. Hell, I still will." She unbuckled her seatbelt and fumbled loudly for the door handle.

"No.''

The voice was quiet, ragged and dismayed.

Emma tilted her head. "No?" she asked askance.

"It's my vehicle, Miss Swan. You will not just take custody of it. Like everything else."

"Take custody of it? _What the hell?_ I just want us to get home safe and sound. In one piece. This isn't some cunning car heist."

Regina paused and regarded Emma closely. "Home?"

Emma bit her lip. "Ah. Well to Storybrooke. Your home."

"Hmm."

"Not _my_ home," Emma babbled on.

"Indeed."

They stared at each other for a beat.

"Why only two hours?" Emma finally asked for want of anything else to say.

Regina grimaced. "Why do you think?" she asked with a tightly-knitted scowl. "You _really_ want to ask me that now? I am tired and irritable and almost got us both killed - and you AGREED we'd tabled this!"

Emma head snapped back at the outburst. "Shit, Regina, calm down. And what do you mean, we tabled this? Your lack of sleep is because of what we ... um ... cos of last night?"

The mayor rolled her eyes. "Are you seriously _this_ dense? Because I am failing to understand what I see in you right now." She pouted in a way Emma could only describe as endearing and then turned to face the side window. Her shoulders slumped.

The blonde's lips twitched in spite of herself. "I know. I am an acquired taste," she said gently. "I don't know what you see in me either. I'm like, um, Chicken and Waffle Chips."

Regina retorted into the glass: "Those cannot possibly be a real thing."

"You doubt me? Fine. Let's check out the junk in your trunk."

The brunette's head snapped back, her mouth dropping open. She glared at Emma.

"Shit, that came out seriously weird and, um, kind of really sexual," Emma blurted, appalled. "I mean I packed that brand of chips. They're in with the beer nuts and Cheetos. Next to the Twix and M&Ms..."

She faded out. "S-sorry. Rambling."

"Yes Miss Swan. You are. We don't need an inventory of all the processed diabetic-comas-in-a-bag you packed."

They both fell silent and turned to stare out the front windscreen at the open road, a black snake endlessly winding into the distance. Regina turned off the ignition and sighed heavily.

"Want me to drive then?" Emma asked quietly. "I promise to respect the black beast is entirely yours at all times and give it back to you at the first pit stop once you've had a nice refreshing power nap."

"Pit stop?"

"Well you must have planned for us to stop at some point for gas or, gee, I dunno, bathroom breaks."

"My Mercedes has excellent mileage and a large fuel tank. No stops are necessary."

"Um, well, that's great for the car. But what about the other thing?" Emma bit on a nail and then gazed at her from under her lashes.

"No stops are necessary," the mayor repeated.

"Regina, you are human. You're gonna want to get near a restroom at some point in the next ...'' she glanced at her watch, "five and a bit hours."

"I do not intend for any part of my being to be anywhere near a restroom at one of those awful truck-stop dives," Regina stated with finality. "Filthy disease-ridden infestations." Her lips pulled back in an evil sneer.

Emma stared at her a little startled. "Are you seriously planning to just willpower away your biological urges? Is that how things work in your brain?"

"I will hold it in," Regina ground out firmly and looked completely appalled they were even discussing it.

Emma laughed out loud at her look of determination. "OK, fine. But don't expect ME to cop that." She opened the car door.

"Where are you going?" the brunette demanded, looking around.

The blonde jerked her thumb to a thick stand of trees not far away. "Doing what comes naturally, seeing you are planning to deny me the basics for the rest of this trip."

Regina pursed her lips and bit back whatever she was going to say. "Fine. Just hurry up," she muttered and pointedly turned to face the opposite direction. "We haven't got all day."

When Emma got back, still buttoning up her jeans, she saw Regina was outside the car and had the coffee thermos out and was about to take a long sip.

"Oh no you don't," she said snatching it from Regina's hands. The mayor gave an outraged squeak. "That's mine - as I am driving now, and you are officially in napping mode."

"I did not agree to that, Miss Swan." She narrowed her eyes.

"True. But think about this - if you kill us both by falling asleep again, who looks after Henry?"

Regina paled and grimly handed the coffee over to Emma. Her voice dropped to a low growl: "I cannot believe you'd play the Henry card. That was most devious."

Emma shrugged and held out her hand. "Whatever works." She waited. After a moment car keys plopped in it.

"Just try to stay on our side of the road," Regina muttered and then had the good grace to look a little sheepish. "Well, more so than I did," she added. A reluctant smile teased around the corners of her lips.

Emma grinned back and took a deep swallow of the coffee. "I promise to look after your baby. Say, what's her name?"

"What?"

"Surely you named your car. Everyone cool does."

Regina snorted. "Well what's that revolting yellow deathtrap called, dear? Roadkill? Rust Bucket? Carrmageddon?"

"Oh ha-fucking-ha, Regina," Emma snickered. She straightened. "It's called Bug. Obviously."

"_Original_."

"I know. _So_?"

Regina huffed at the perceived imposition before finally clearing her throat and offering a name.

"Rocinante."

Emma's eyebrows lifted.

"Named after my most beloved horse, who was also dark and sleek and powerful." Regina leaned against the car door and a faraway look crossed her face.

Emma fell silent and watched the strange, distant expression curiously. She took another swallow of coffee. She tried to think of something else to say. Something relevant.

"That reminds me - Henry tells me you go horse riding these days," Emma offered after a moment. "Is it just him and you?"

"No. I mainly ride alone now," Regina said and suddenly pursed her lips. "Although he comes with me on weekends."

"Why? I thought the purpose was for you and Henry to get on better? Some sort of therapy from the doc? _Right_?"

Another long silence fell and the brunette squinted into the sun.

"No, Miss Swan," she finally said. "I thought initially that was why. But it turns out that was not the reason after all. Now if you don't mind, can we get going? And try not to take out any street signs."

She opened the passenger door and slid inside. Emma followed suit on the driver's side, making a science of adjusting the seat. She turned and grinned. "I make no promises."


	36. Chapter 36

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By Red Charcoal**

**Chapter 36: Of Horses and Bears**

Regina settled into the passenger seat and watched out of the corner of her eye as Emma adjusted her seat, fiddled with the side and rear mirrors and made another typically smart-ass retort. In other words, made herself completely at home.

_Well, she was true to form at least._

She closed her eyes and bit back her own smart retort.

The mayor knew she was exhausted. The moment her eyes fluttered shut she felt like she was mired in mud, being pulled deeper. It had been a mistake to drive in the first place on only two hours sleep. A mistake not to ask Emma to drive them. But she was hanging by a thread from the moment she got up. It was like if she gave away her last piece of power to the blonde, she would have nothing left. She knew it was the lack of sleep, but she was barely there.

She had been rapidly unravelling since the night before. A night spent tossing and turning. Getting up, trying to watch the hotel TV to induce sleepiness. Checking her texts. Having a hot drink. Returning to bed. Rising an hour later. Rinse and repeat. And all because of that kiss. _That kiss._

In all her life Regina had never almost come undone from a single press of soft lips. And yet she had felt the shivers of delight shoot up her the moment Emma's hand slid across the back of her neck and drew them close, pressing their mouths together.

That had been a thrilling realisation in its own right - that Emma had been the one to initiate it.

And then she had felt the flutter of lips, a brush of tongue, and heard the sensual moans from the other woman who bucked against her. It had been the most erotic experience of her life and she knew instantly that if the blonde had so much brushed the tips of her fingers across her most intimate place, she would have climaxed on the spot.

In light of what Emma had said next, she was profoundly glad the hand gently caressing her neck had not strayed anywhere below her collarbone.

_"That was a mistake."_

The four brutal words ricocheted through her brain for hours afterwards, slowly stripping the hope from her, withering her soul to a pathetic husk. If Emma had leaned over and stabbed her, Regina could not have been more shocked, more hurt.

She swallowed the rejection, the four horrible words, and hid her humiliation well. To hell she would show she was dying inside. _She was Regina Mills for God's sake. She didn't do pathetic displays like hormonal lovesick teenagers._

She left as soon as she could. Striding down the stairs, across to her car. Drove to the hotel quickly, thanks to minimal traffic on grey, wet roads at 3am, lit by blotchy street-light streaks. Headed straight to the comfortable king-sized hotel bed which held neither comfort nor sleep.

Today's gentle thrum and vibration of her Mercedes, however, had been vastly more soothing, lulling her to a peaceful place before she had even realised just how tired she was.

It had only been Emma's terrified shout that jolted her out of her doze.

Regina felt like a cliche when she saw the flashes of a life poorly lived. How cruel to be reminded of that tawdry business after so much effort to reinvent herself. After so much time spent fighting who she had been. She saw the evil deeds and wickedness, lined up like mocking black dominoes. She saw her emotionally crushed heart and her crushing others' hearts.

The pictured tilted. Down. And brightened. She saw Henry in her arms, and felt the slight shift in her chest. She remembered the puzzlement of that sensation as she stroked his fair hair and cupped his tiny face. She experienced again the emotions of falling in love with him, then slowly losing him, fading away like longer and longer shadows at dusk. And then came images of Emma. The blonde tresses and red jacket. Watchful eyes. She saw herself hating her. Tolerating her. Suffering horror at her hand. Hurting her. And hurting her. And hurting her. The big green eyes watching her in _such_ pain. Then Regina watched the image shift. She was forgiving her.

Then forgiving herself.

Finally. Loving her.

The thought Emma was about to be snuffed out of existence due to Regina's own negligence brought a sharp taste of bile to the back of her throat and as she heaved on the steering wheel, her only thought was an internal scream: "Don't you DARE die!"

And for once in her ornery, contrary life, Emma Swan obeyed her.

Regina sat there, at the side of the road, shell shocked, as Emma calmly performed something akin to a close-call autopsy.

Her brain was in a daze. Her heart was thumping wildly. She couldn't seem to move the fingers stuck on the steering wheel. They felt like someone else's.

And Emma casually asked whether she had been overtaking. Curiously. Like did Regina enjoy roasted pumpkin?

_Did the woman not understand she had almost died?_ _That she had almost lost her?_ Regina had stared.

She shut her eyes, squeezed out the thoughts hammering at her from every direction. They had almost died. And she just ... Couldn't. Handle. That.

The rush of adrenalin finally fizzled out and a wave of exhaustion took over.

She fell back on her usual sarcastic banter. It was almost too easy. She was like the rhythmic drum section to Emma's percussion. It was how they played together.

She wondered if the blonde could see her hands were now trembling in her lap. She remembered the warmth of the blonde carefully removing them from the steering wheel and placing them there, and she had to bite her tongue not to beg her to hold them a little while longer. That she was a rattled mess. And would she mind?

When Emma finally exited the car for the stand of trees, Regina rubbed her eyes viciously, daring them to leak and unmask her pathetic weakness. She scolded herself.

_So much for new and improved._ Hell. She was a goddamned wreck.

This could not stand. She needed coffee, she decided, and flung open the door. She rose on shaky legs and made her way to the boot.

But then Emma Swan, striding up with her stupid sexy swagger, denied her even that. Although, all things considered, she couldn't exactly blame her.

Deprived of her coffee hit, Regina felt weary and completely washed out. And she knew she was beyond arguing. She reluctantly balled up her keys and dropped them in Emma's outstretched hand, relieved not to see triumphalism in her eyes. Instead - just straight-up relief. Well OK then. She could live with that.

Now, with her eyes fluttering open and shut, glimpsing Emma pull smoothly away from the road verge, she realised she should stop fighting for control when she had none.

It was one of the lessons she learned the hard way from Hopper.

Her mind floated backwards.

* * *

"It's been a month but I still don't understand why you wanted me to ride alone," Regina began, folding her arms as she leaned against the frame of the doctor's office window. It had become her favourite spot during their twice-weekly sessions.

"Well why do you think I suggested riding in the first place?'' Archie asked, scribbling a rapid note and looking up.

Regina watched the pen move and eyed him suspiciously.

"No, that was not about my shopping," he answered her unspoken question. He gave a small grin.

She smiled briefly at their shared joke before answering seriously. "I thought I was riding to improve my relationship with Henry. Which is _already_ improved, I might add."

"Regina," Archie said quietly, "It was never about that. I did want you to heal one thing though."

"Could you talk in even more riddles?" she huffed in irritation.

Archie looked sheepish and swallowed nervously. "Matt told me how outraged you got when he suggested horse therapy is good for troubled kids because it shows them how to accept and reciprocate unconditional love."

Regina's eyes narrowed.

"Henry has never been abused," Regina spat. "And I do not appreciate the implication. We've been over this. I told Matt that."

"I know," he said quietly.

"Then do try to get to the point, because I am failing to grasp it, Doctor."

"I felt _you_, not Henry, needed animal therapy more than almost anyone in Storybrooke. You have been treated cruelly, Regina. The time spent with horses was always supposed to be about you."

She felt her face contort in outrage. _Is that how he saw her? Like some abused pathetic little creature?_ She frowned in dismay. Archie barrelled on.

"From losing the man you did love, to being forced to submit to a man you never ever wanted near you in that capacity - you have not had unconditional love for a lifetime. I know briefly with Henry it was there but we both know he also wilfully withdrew it. So I really wanted you to feel that again. It's very important for you.''

"You could have just told me that's what this was," Regina growled. "Why you felt the need to manipulate and treat me like..."

"Regina, are you saying that you would have simply agreed and gone along with it? That first day I mentioned the stables?"

The mayor turned back to the window. "Not the point. This was not OK," she muttered and waved a hand. She allowed a sarcastic edge to sharpen her tone to a razor's edge. "It would be nice to feel in charge of my destiny once in a while. Not someone else's pawn."

"You have been in charge of it all this time, Regina. For decades," Archie said in surprise. "You demonstrated your power to us all on a regular basis. Sleeping with our late Sheriff. Governing Storybrooke unopposed however you decreed. Playing games with Emma when she first arrived, trying to run her out of town. A powerless person would not attempt these things. And she would certainly not succeed."

"And look how well that worked out, trying to send Henry's birth-mother on her way when we first met. I never could control her. Not really."

"You mistake having choices with having absolute power," Archie suggested gently. "No one has that. Nor should they. It's corruptive."

Regina snorted even though the words settled on her uncomfortably.

"The more power you have," he added, "the more you seek. And the more you disdain and even fear that which you can't control, instead of accepting lack of control is sometimes just part of life. It's a vicious cycle. Yet all any of us really needs, deep down, is freedom to choose our destinies."

"My destiny was to run Emma out of town the first week she was here," Regina grumbled sourly.

"That was never your destiny, Regina," Archie said. "If it was meant to be, it would have happened. The problem is you continually confuse destiny with choice. They are quite opposite most of the time. I am curious as to why you feel powerless when as mayor you are anything but?"

She shrugged. "A lifetime of memories from a time long past."

"You do have free will now though."

"I thought I did."

"Until?"

"Emma Swan."

"And yet you ultimately _did_ run her out of town. So you ... won. Your free will prevailed."

"No, that's just it," she sighed. "I never did. She chose to leave to spare me. She sacrificed herself. Fell nobly on her sword. Took it as a punishment. If she had really wanted to stay she would still be here. Really, doctor, her going was just a demonstration of HER free will. Not mine."

Archie eyed her. "Why did you ask her to go when you did?''

"You ask me that every session," Regina growled. "Aren't you tired of hearing the same words sliding off your tongue, dear?"

"Aren't you tired of not answering this particular question?" He smiled to take the edge off it.

Regina had already turned away. She watched the passing parade of cars (none yellow) snake their way up the main street. Her mind jumbled and shifted around. She wondered what Emma was doing now. Her heart tightened at the question and not for the first time she wondered why she still cared. Her hand, flat against the frame tightened into a hard fist.

"What are you thinking about?"

"What do you think?"

Archie smiled kindly. "I am guessing it's not about horses and healing."

"You would be right."

"Why did you ask her to leave? You could have done so the day she hurt you. The week after. The first month. The first three months. Why wait so long? Why then?"

Regina spun around. "Stop pushing me."

Archie tilted his head. "I thought this was why you were here? To get answers?"

"I am here to be fixed. Not grilled about things I cannot change no matter how much I wish I could."

A heavy silence fell between them. Archie scribbled more notes. The scratching noise filled the room.

"Don't forget to add laundry powder and Pongo's biscuits," Regina intoned drolly.

This time he ignored the obvious deflection and gave her a laser-hard look. "You wish you could undo what you did," he stated. "And you regret sending her away."

The brunette sighed. "Of course I do," she said crossly. "Henry made my life hell and half the town still won't speak to me. Ever tried governing a mute town, Doctor? It is not pleasant. Not to mention Ruby burns my lunch every time without fail."

"I thought you ate salad for lunch?"

Regina's eyes flashed darkly. "Metaphorically speaking." She worked her jaw. "It's her _attitude_."

"So you regret sending Emma away because it negatively affected your interactions with others? What about how you personally feel about her being gone?"

"She had her uses," Regina conceded with a brittle laugh. "Didn't need any sleeping pills. I hate these goddamned pills. When can I come off them anyway? This is getting absurd."

It was a rhetorical question - one she had asked him many times. She had tried repeatedly over the months to not use them and always the result was the same. Wide-eyed nights and sheets in a twisted, angry whirlpool by morning. And lots of fresh, bruising memories of a past life spent in hell.

"Was that her only use?"

"What do you mean?'' she asked silkily, her voice dropping dangerously. "You want to know if I was _fucking _her?" Regina spat, eyes flashing. "I was most definitely _not_."

"Actually I was wondering whether you missed her companionship. I am curious as to why you thought I meant a sexual purpose, though. You have made this assumption more than once now."

Regina turned back to the window and gave a backhanded wave. "Fine," she said, biting the end of the word off. "I miss her. _Personally_. She was diverting to talk to late at night when I was ... unsettled. OK? Is that what you want to hear?"

Archie sucked in a breath and tried once more. "So why did you tell her to leave Storybrooke when you did? If you were at the point of enjoying her company?"

"Isn't it obvious? Because I was enjoying it TOO DAMNED MUCH," Regina spat back, irritated beyond reason at the question he had been pummelling her with for so long now. She instantly felt a horror shoot through her the moment she said the words out loud. "I..."

_Shit_.

Archie was watching her, thoughtfully chewing the lid on his pen and Regina rubbed her temple. "I... that's not... It's just she wanted more from me. And part of me ..." she swallowed. "Part of me was not opposed. And that could not be tolerated." She ground her back molars together.

"Why does it bother you so much to have found common ground with Emma? And maybe even desire more from her?"

"You do realise she was my _rapist_, dear?" Regina hissed. "There is a world of wrong with finding friendship with such a person. Do you remember what I said the day you found me in that pathetic quivering heap at the bottom of my staircase? There is NO excuse for rape. And if I try to find one for Emma Swan, if I try to let her in, why not all of them? I may as well be excusing Leopold. I may as well kiss his ugly, bristly face and embrace the domineering bastard. Like all is forgiven."

And there it was.

Regina and Archie locked eyes and the mayor hesitated. Her voice choked briefly before it came out gruff and raw. "I-I don't want to forgive him," she whispered harshly. "EVER. If I forgive her, I'm forgiving HIM aren't I? And I am not ready to... I don't ever want to NOT hate him. He deserves to be hated forever. I hope the bastard fries in hell."

"Regina," Archie said after a beat, "You are not giving a free pass to the man who callously violated you by responding to the kindness and friendship shown by the one who never meant to. They are very different things. Intent is everything."

The mayor stared at him. She said flatly: "You think I can still hate the bastard and yet forgive her." The thought had never entered her mind before. It had never even swum close enough to the surface for her to consider it consciously. It was as foreign a concept as she had ever heard.

And then Hopper managed to surpass it.

"Of course," he nodded. "And, if you are ready, you can do more than just forgive her if you want."

Regina eyed him disbelievingly. She shook her head, looking at the man like he had a toaster on his head. This was nuts. How could... It could never... _Too much. _

"I think this session is over," she said painfully and strode out without another word.

* * *

When Regina next opened her eyes she realised the car wasn't moving. Emma had pulled up at some sort of road-side stall.

The brunette squinted at the hand-painted purple and red sign. "Maine maple syrup, honeys, jams."

_Oh for god's sake_, she muttered, eyeing the blonde bent over, apparently discussing a purchase with a stall holder. The tight jeans stretched over her firm ass, and Regina found herself momentarily distracted. She leaned on the power-window button and was disgruntled when it didn't budge. _Of course, damn engine was off._

She opened the door a crack. _This was going to be a long trip if Emma felt the urge to tourist her way the whole route back to Storybrooke._ And frankly Regina had neither the stomach nor the bladder for it. She was good but not that good.

She was about to call the blonde back when a shadow appeared by her door, a gnarled face bent forward filling the window. Regina couldn't help but recoil in surprise. Then she made out a black-shrouded elderly woman staring at her hard. Grey hair exploded from her skull like an Einstein caricature. She looked like some mourning Sicilian widow from a Depression-era historical print.

"Momma, come back here," called a pained masculine voice from the direction of the stall. "Stop scaring off the customers."

The ancient woman did not budge but stared at her with cold brown eyes and waggled her finger. "I am watching you," she said in a reed-thin voice that held just a hint of menace. "Blackness turned grey. You think no one sees? I see you. Soon will come the bear."

Regina's eyebrows lifted. "Bear?" she drawled disbelievingly as the ample, crumpled form spun her bulk around and began to shamble back to the stall.

The woman heard her word and arced her head back. The finger waggled at her again. "First you'll see its claw," she eyed her knowingly. "That is the omen it nears. Then the bear. And it will attack, daughter of the dark, you mark me on this, because your black side attracts the beast. And you will encourage the beast to draw near. For that is your true nature."

The mayor glared at her and the woman's face folded into a toothless smile completely devoid of warmth. Regina was fairly sure she'd met dessicated resurrected crones with more charm.

"Sorry, ma'am, it's just my mother," a man's anxious voice called out. "She says stuff like that sometimes. Don't mind her. Don't take it to heart or nothing."

The man, in his fifties, wearing a brown leather apron with a front pouch took a step forward from behind the stall's trestle tables lined with jars. He appeared friendly enough but his brown eyes were filled with embarrassment. There was little doubt his finger-waggling doomsday mother was a habitual offender.

Emma leaned her head outside the make-shift wooden stall to as if to see what the commotion was and her eye fell on Regina. Her face lit up in a smile. The mayor wondered if she even realised she was doing it. She was clutching several fruit preserves and a small bottle of brown syrup. _Maple probably._ Regina had a burning urge to roll her eyes at the homey haul, but resisted.

"Hey, you're awake," the blonde called over to the car. "Great. Which do you think Mary Margaret would prefer?" She waggled the jars and the mayor shook her head.

_Seriously?_ Regina felt like she was in the Twilight Zone. "Miss Swan can we get moving sometime before Archie and Matt return from their honeymoon? I really don't think Miss Blanchard will care. It's the thought that counts," she added the last bit in a pained parody of a Hallmark card she thought she read somewhere. Brunching with Kathryn and being required to pop out cheesy motivational lines on cue was finally proving useful.

"Oh right," Emma said, taking the input at face value and turning back.

The crone was clearly not quite done and poked her head out of the stall and began eyeballing her again. "The bear will attack and it will be powerful!" she declared with certainty.

"Momma, enough!"

"But when the blood washes away, you will all see the truth. Grey is white is grey." She nodded and then started to shuffle away. She seemed finished at last.

Regina felt an odd chill pass through her. Seers, the good ones at least, she knew sometimes left a passing residue after a reading. _But that was ridiculous,_ she told herself, _they were in a land without magic_. She shook her head. _All nonsense._

"OK Momma, this way." The man shooed his mother to the back of the structure and waved at Regina. "Shit, sorry about that. She thinks she sees dead people, too." He laughed self-consciously but did not look amused.

Regina sighed and shut her car door firmly. She could see Emma was nearly done.

As if on cue the blonde jogged back holding a bunch of preserves and then popped the trunk. "Couldn't decide so got one of each," she said with a wide smile.

There was a gentle clang of glass on glass, more rummaging noises and then the trunk slammed shut.

The driver's door opened and Emma flopped inside and faced her with an easy grin. "What was the crazy old bat on about?"

"Apparently I am to be attacked by a bear, dear," Regina said ruefully. "How nice for us."

Emma laughed. "OK, then. Good to know. Oh wait, there aren't really any bears in these parts though, right?" She slid anxious eyes over to the mayor.

"No Miss Swan, there most definitely are not."

"Good, just checking. Right let's get this show on the road."

"Fine. And, dear, no more stops unless it's an emergency. And if you spot a bear, do accelerate."

"Yup," Emma chuckled and started the engine, peeling away with a lot more zeal than Regina would have liked. "Tire tracks across bears. Check. Oh by the way can you pass me the M&Ms. I like to munch and drive."

"Of course you do," Regina sighed and handed her the bag. "God forbid we should observe structured meal times."

"And you thought you wouldn't get into the road trip spirit," Emma smirked. "Oh whoops. Ah SHIT. That's probably gonna be a bastard to clean up, right?"

Regina looked at the rainbow spray of mini chocolates now liberally seeded througout the car. Her face and mood both dropped. Emma was flicking stricken eyes in her direction while trying to hold her driving line. Her fingers flicked out every now and then to catch any stray chocolates she spotted.

The mayor reviewed the situation as a trio of M&Ms rolled towards her across the dash. Old Regina would have found so many choice words to describe the calamity befalling her beloved car that Emma's ears would now be bleeding from the vitriol.

Instead she gritted her teeth and shut her eyes.

"I am now officially in denial, Miss Swan. The next time I wake up, I expect to see a clean car and the sign 'Welcome to Storybrooke'."

She didn't wait for an answer and, as they rounded a corner, also deigned not to feel chocolate treats bounce across her thighs and whiz past her ear.

_New and improved,_ she muttered inwardly. _New and improved._


	37. Chapter 37

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By Red Charcoal**

Author's note: Thanks to Exquisiteliltart for helping me with names of American sweet treats. Very eyepopping.

**CHAPTER 37: BILL'S EATS AND FUEL**

Regina's eyes fluttered open when she felt the bump. A speed hump, her brain supplied helpfully, as she realised Emma was turning in to what had to be the world's gaudiest truck stop. They crunched over gravel patches and clumps of tar and eventually squeaked to a halt. Regina frowned. That mess would stick to the tires.

"Really?" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes awake. "You had to submit the outside of my car to an equivalent destruction to what you inflicted on the inside?"

Even as she said it, Regina realised she could see no coloured candies beyond a few at her feet. How Emma had managed to drive and pluck flying M&Ms from every surface and crevice was beyond her. She tried to visualise it but failed.

"And I thought I said no stops till Storybrooke," she added petulantly. Her tongue felt furry, and she realised she hadn't had a drink in hours.

"Sorry Regina, that coffee went right through me. And 'sides I have to make a call. My cell's dead. Didn't charge it last night."

The brunette's eyes fell to a garish enormous illuminated sign in pink and gray that said "Bill's Eats and Fuel". She muttered: "For God's sake, is the word 'Food' too hard to spell? What is this 'Eats' nonsense?"

She gave an appalled sigh then turned to look at the blonde as her words registered. "Who could you possibly have to call now that is so important it can't wait?"

"Mandy. She must be wondering where on earth I am. Last she heard I was going out with you last night. She must think you abducted me," Emma paused for a small grin. "Which, come to think of it, you kinda did."

Regina rolled her eyes and glanced out the window. A sandwich-board sign listing all the pastries and sweets on offer made her stomach turn: Maple donuts with bacon, raspberry cheese flips, donut holes, bear claws, cinnabuns, moon pies, elephant ears, whoopie pies, tiger tails and honeymooners. She hadn't even heard of half of them. She wondered if any contained ingredients beyond sugar, sugar and more sugar.

"Hey, you listening?" Emma leaned into her field of vision and waved a hand. She gave a chuckle. "Anyway I need to go to the bathroom, first. And don't worry," she added with a smug look, "not one tiny cell of your outraged body has to go anywhere near the inside of this place. I'll be as quick as I can."

Regina gave an acknowledging grunt as Emma opened the driver's door and headed towards the glass and concrete monstrosity that would never have looked in fashion even on the day it was built.

The mayor swallowed with difficulty and found she really was more than just a little thirsty. And, as end-of-times chic as the place looked, even they couldn't possibly screw up a refrigerated bottle of water.

She dug around for her purse then opened the passenger's door and stood swiftly. A cascade of hitherto hidden M&Ms bounced out of the folds of her clothes and she scowled. _Emma. Swan._

She shook herself to make sure all had bounced off her and followed her car's chocolate vandal inside.

A high-pitched buzz sounded as the auto-doors activated. _Well that would _never_ get annoying._

Ahead she saw Emma's face in profile light up at the sight of something in the pastry cabinet - _figures_ - then talk briefly to the assistant, asking for the bathroom key.

Emma disappeared through the side doors to a small restaurant which presently housed a single family of four. They appeared to be a matching box-set of rotund, ruddy-cheeked examples of lethargic suburbia, eating hamburgers comprising about 300 per cent melted cheese. The red plastic chairs and unsightly plastic tablecloths they were using added to the general ambiance of artificiality and human decay.

She shuddered, feeling her arteries hardening at the sight of their greasy fare, and flicked her eyes back to where she was.

Assorted processed produce in bags, tins and boxes. A whirring ceiling fan coated in a thick layer of dust, made a low whupping noise like a helicopter coming to rest. Framed pictures lined the walls showing rows of hefty men in flannel shirts under caps with furry flaps, holding shotguns, kneeling in front of dead animals, grinning widely. Captions heralded their deeds with words like: "Bobby takes a hundred pounder without getting out of his truck." The badly broken neck of one deer caught her attention, its glazed dull black eyes staring mournfully out of the picture.

_Well, how positively family friendly, _she mused.

The mayor finally spotted the drinks fridge and groaned at the newest annoyance. She began digging behind rows and rows of carbonated cans to dredge up a lone bottled water she had spied at the very back. Triumphant, she made her way to the front counter.

The man in his thirties looked bored beyond reason, as his eyes flicked between a small black-and-white security monitor to his left and the customer area in front of him.

She heard another door buzz and heavy footsteps behind her but ignored it and stepped forward to the counter.

"Just that then?" he asked flatly, noting the bottle she placed before her.

"Yes." Her eyes slid to the pastry cabinet beside him and spotted the one lonely bear claw nestled amid the fattening treats. She remembered the look on Emma's face. She'd bet her last cent that that hideous creation was what had captivated Emma's attention as she walked by.

She would probably regret this but... "Oh and that..." She began to point when the world's boredest service provider suddenly changed personality in one second. He swore animatedly, his face flushed and he jumped to his feet.

"Fucking kids! Little shits. _NOT AGAIN._ This time I'll nail the bastards," he bellowed and reached beneath the counter. An apologetic expression briefly crossed his face as he realised Regina was staring at him in confusion and annoyance. "Sorry ma'am. I'll be right back!"

He bolted, drawing a baseball bat into his hand, and then sprinted through the doors. A buzz sounded as he left.

_Well_. Regina cast her eyes to the security monitor, puzzled, then spotted a gang of four boys in their early teens tagging the door to a garage in large droopy sprayed lettering. As she watched, the server ran into the fray waving his bat comically and, if his face was anything to go by on the silent feed, shouting at the top of his lungs.

She smirked.

She felt a presence and a large shadow and turned. An oaf of a man in a flannel shirt was leaning past her to the cabinet to grab a pastry.

_And not just any pastry._

"Excuse ME," she snapped in irritation. "That is not yours. I was just about to buy it when the man ran out."

"Wrong. This is mine. I always get it, same time every day. Ask Frankie when he gets back from scaring off those fucking gutter punks."

Regina turned fully to assess him and straightened to full height. She took his measure. He was tall. Well over 6ft 5in. Wide. An ample gut strained the lower buttons on his stained blue-brown flannel. He had fat brown sideburns attaching to scruffy, greasy hair escaping from under a Wild Turkey cap. His stance was wide, as if taking up too much space was still not nearly enough. And his odour ... well, cheap cigarettes mixed with cheaper bourbon was the polite description. Regina's nose wrinkled and her eyes dropped.

It was his hands that she really noticed. Enormous, like slabs of beef, each one the size of a dinner plate. And his general demeanor? Well she recognised that very well. A typical bully. Used to getting his way by sheer dint of his size. No one had probably ever said no to him in his entire menacing life.

_Until now._

She dredged up an unbelievable amount of attitude and bared her teeth. "First in first served," she said in a dangerous, warning tone and took a menacing step towards him.

His mouth fell open in surprise, clearly expecting an immediate capitulation.

Regina smirked and pushed forward the advantage. "Or didn't your mother teach you that? I suppose you were you dragged up instead of raised?" She smiled, her coldest most menacing smile, one that could turn underlings from this world and the last into fearful puddles. Her eyes glittered darkly promising all manner of destruction. Her chest rose and fell; her fingers flexing into fists and releasing. Repeating.

The bully's eyes began to blink rapidly and she watched as his nostrils flared. _He definitely had not expected this._

She waited for his next move. Anyone who knew anything about her knew now was the moment to back down or suffer an unholy reign of ...

"What did you say, you bitch?"

_Oh shit._

Then she remembered: This man did not know her. Did not know what she was capable of. But she was committed now. She would not allow some creature to take what he wanted just because he thought he could. He might not know who he was dealing with but _she_ knew. _She was Regina Fucking Mills thank you very much. And she did not back down._

She lowered her voice till the man had to strain to hear.

"I understand if you are having comprehension difficulties dear, it must be hard thanks to your limited intellectual prowess and disadvantaged background."

She smiled sweetly and knew he understand her all too well. He looked about ready to self-immolate.

"Did you just fucking insult my family?" His eyes narrowed into nasty slits.

"If you have to ask..." she drawled, mocking him. She tilted her head pityingly. "But to be clear: Yes, dear, I most certainly did."

For a moment there was the sound of the large man's laboured breathing.

"You think I won't hurt you cos you're a _girl?_" he snarled and he gave a nasty laugh. "That never stopped me 'playing' a little with my last two wives."

"Why am I not surprised you like to pummel the fairer sex?" Regina asked with a disdainful sneer. "Your mother must be _so_ proud. Want to know something which may come as profoundly shocking to a creature like you?" She dropped her voice to pure undiluted menace. "I am not afraid of you."

The man lifted his hand and showed Regina the bear claw he was still clutching. He tightened his grip and crushed it effortlessly between his fingers. Then he leaned forward and, with the flat of one hand, dragged the squishy remnants straight down her white tee-shirt, from chest to waist. And he smiled.

Regina's hand flashed up, gathered the meaty wrist which had just dropped to his side in a bone-crushing grip and twisted. VICIOUSLY. It elicited an animalistic howl of pain and the man's other hand lashed out blindly.

Regina ducked the blow easily but never saw the return path of the motion. His fist impacted the side of her head like a cement slab. The brunette let out a huff of anguished breath and dropped to her knees instantly, dazed. She let go of his wrist. The man instantly grabbed hers instead, squeezing with building pressure.

"That's more like it," he spat as Regina stared groggily up at him, his waist now level with her eyes. "Right where uppity whores like you belong."

And that's when she saw it. The silver flashing and twinkling in the harsh fluorescent lights. It was now at eye level - the decorative buckle on his belt.

An image of a grizzly bear.

_Oh for God's sake_, her slow brain muttered, finally supplying all the pieces. She would have rolled her eyes if she knew it wouldn't hurt.

Before she could wonder at the impossibility of seers in a land without magic, his meaty hand lashed out, from out of nowhere, and gave her a powerful slap that made her ears ring with pain. She saw spots.

_Fuck!_

She tried to twist away but the oaf was still holding her wrist.

Blood dripped down her shirt - from her nose she guessed - and Regina wondered if she had somehow let out a scream when she heard an almost primal cry.

And then she heard it again - a female voice, but most definitely not her own.

"GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF HER!''

Regina's world slowed down and she turned her head to watch in utter astonishment as Emma Swan flew from the side doors at stunning speed and hurled herself at her attacker. One minute she was airborne, the next...

The impact of the flying rugby-style tackle sent the brute sprawling onto his back. The blonde landed on top of him and set upon him like a banshee, all elbows and knees and furious fists.

"OW! What the fuck!" a masculine voice roared. "Who the hell are you?"

Emma twisted to one side and delivered a crunching, somewhat sprawled out, uppercut to his chin followed by a sickeningly accurate elbow pile-driving directly into his crotch.

"YOU DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH THE WOMAN I LOVE, YOU DISGUSTING ASSHOLE!"

Regina's mouth dropped open in shock. She had already been rendered immobile by the man's dazing attack and now Emma's words ensured no muscle so much as twitched. She gaped. Emma _loved_ her?

His howl of outrage caused the sound of clattering implements and the family of four to run to the windowed restaurant doors, peering out. Four pasty white faces watched the carnage, one pudgy boy filming with his camera phone.

Emma leaped to her feet and began to edge away, deciding her next move.

The attacker, still groaning in agony, clapped one hand over his tender groin while the other snapped out and grabbed Emma by the ankle. He tugged with a ferocious snap, toppling her over and then punched her solidly in the side of the face before she had even landed.

"OW! SHIT!" Emma growled and tried to twist back off him. He rolled them both over and pinned her down. His bruising weight was squeezing the air out of her as she feebly tried to scrabble and squirm.

Regina felt redness cross her eyes. She stared in fury. Her teeth bared. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and she realised she could not remember the last time she felt such murderous rage.

With a strength she did not even know she possessed she burst forward, grabbed two fists of his shirt, bodily hauling him up and off Emma, and then used the momentum of his body weight to spin him until he flew hard against the wall. The wall shuddered under the enormous thwack.

He slumped down the wall. Everyone froze. The rise and fall of his chest was the only movement in the unnaturally stilled room.

Four sets of wide eyes blinked in unison from the restaurant door's window. An excited chatter began on the other side of that door.

Regina ignored them and scrabbled over to Emma who had now sat up and was catching her breath.

Their eyes locked and they stared for a moment, unsure what to say.

"I see you met my bear,'' Regina finally offered ruefully.

Emma choked on a laugh. "Shit it hurts to laugh." She flicked her eyes across the brunette. "You look like a mess. What the hell did he do to you?"

"He tried to take my bear claw, dear."

Regina's eyes twinkled and Emma eyed her uncertainly.

"You're joking."

"Quite serious."

"You don't even like bear claws. 'Pudgy processed fat parcels' you called them once."

"No I don't like them. But I know _you_ do."

There was a long silence and Regina's fingers slid up to Emma's bruised face. "Sorry he hurt you."

Emma smiled weakly. "Could say the same for you. You know your whole face is, like, blood and pastry smears right?" A questing finger slid down her face and Emma tucked a strand of brown hair behind Regina's ear.

The brunette imagined she did look a mess and sighed inwardly. But all she particularly cared about right now was right in front of her. She nudged Emma with her shoulder. "What about you? Rushing in here all heroically like you had the devil himself on your tail."

Emma looked down. "You scared the fucking crap out of me. Like _seriously_. All I saw was that asshole bent over you and I saw red. I just remember screaming at him."

"So I heard," Regina said with a tiny smile, wondering if Emma realised what she had declared to all of Bill's Eats and Fuel at the top of her lungs.

Emma reddened.

_Ah_, Regina thought. _So she did._

A buzz sounded and footsteps scampered in.

"Oh my God! What the hell! I left y'all alone for three minutes!" The squeak of the serving assistant took the edge off the tension. It was almost funny, his hysteria.

Then came his shocked gasp. "What'd you do to Grylls?"

"Grylls?" Regina asked. "That can't be his real name."

"No," the man said rushing over and rolling the supine body into the recovery position. "It's a joke name. Short for Bear Grylls. Cos he likes to shoot bears so much. Real name is Dave."

"Bears?" Emma queried. She snapped her head over to Regina. "You said there weren't any. For real I mean."

"Well I meant on our direct route home. I hadn't counted on the human variety. And there are definitely none in Storybrooke. I made sure of that."

"Do I want to know how?"

"No," Regina said, looking at her nails. Blood was under them and she frowned. "I think we should get cleaned up and get moving. We are on a deadline after all."

She sat up, wincing, and Emma mirrored her actions, wobbling as she got to her knees. She put an arm around Regina's waist for support and pulled them both upright.

"I'm afraid that's not really possible," the shop attendant interrupted, frowning darkly. "I am calling the police. An assault of some sort has clearly taken place."

He reached for the phone.

"You want to detain two defenseless women for hurting that huge bastard who attacked us?" Regina growled.

"I don't particularly care how this happened," the man said as he dialled. "This is procedure. And we can sort out who did what to whoever when the cops get here."

"We have a wedding to attend," Regina interrupted.

"I don't care if you ladies have a duet to perform for the President's inauguration. You will stay here till this is sorted. Hear me? Now if it will make you more comfortable, I have a room out the back in the staff area where you can get cleaned up and change and wait for the authorities. But that is as good as my offer gets."

Regina eyed him, humphing softly in annoyance, but secretly a little impressed that he was neither as spineless nor hopeless as she had originally written him off as. She could hear the man now reporting the assault in the background.

"No, we can't go on the run, Regina," Emma announced as Regina turned to her, as if reading her mind. "And we _can_ still make it to the wedding on time if the cops don't drag their feet getting here. 'Sides, this dude has security cameras everywhere," she added eyes flicking to the corners of the room and pointing. "Not like we won't be able to prove what Grylls or Dave or whatever he calls himself did and who started it."

Regina's lips pursed.

Emma blinked for a moment, and then her eyes widened. "Oh whoa, Regina, please tell me HE started it? _Please_?"

Regina pulled a face. "Of course he did." She paused. "Although he might ... somewhat ... disagree."

Emma's expression became pained.

The brunette threw her hands up. "Look, I merely exercised my consumer rights in objecting when he stole the pastry I was planning on purchasing for you. I may have insulted him once or twice." Emma lifted her eyebrow disbelievingly. "Or thrice," Regina amended. "But he, well he definitely threw the first punch. Um, right after I pincer-twisted his wrist. Which was right after he had run the bear claw down my shirt."

"Oh god," Emma groaned. "You really are..."

Regina tilted her head curiously. "Yes dear?"

Emma bit her lip. "One of a kind."

"Thank you, dear."

"I did not mean it as a compliment."

"Yes you did."

Regina offered her most endearing smile and eyed Emma from under her lashes.

The blonde's face quirked, as if trying to hide a grin.

"Maybe," Emma conceded and then folded her arms. "You are so impossible." With a sterner tone, she added: "And definitely a handful."

"No doubt about it," Regina concurred with a twitch of her lips. "So - shall we go get cleaned up?"


	38. Chapter 38

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By Red Charcoal**

**.**

**CHAPTER 38: CLEAN UP ON AISLE THREE**

Emma's eyes flicked around the small but functional staff room they had been pointed to by the attendant, Frankie. A small kitchenette sat in one corner, complete with microwave, toaster oven, a tiny sink and a compact bar fridge. She peered inside searching for ice. Nothing but a few Cokes and a bag of reeking curried egg sandwiches. Frankie's lunch most likely. She recoiled, closed the fridge and turned.

A cheap, lacquered, white round table holding dog-eared copies of last month's gossip magazines dominated the middle of the room. Two unmatched plastic chairs were pulled up under it. A low, short sofa was rammed against one painted-brick wall, in green and dark brown stripes. It was tattered, its edges held together by grey duct tape and smelt faintly of sweat and something else. Something worse.

Emma's nose wrinkled in distaste.

She spotted another door at the end of the room and strode over to peer inside. To her surprise the entire room, which contained only a toilet, was gleaming. _Well OK then._ Frankie clearly had high bathroom standards, even if his taste in sandwiches was sorely lacking.

She heard a sound and turned to see Regina. The mayor's lip curled ever-so-slightly as she took in the room. Emma strode quickly back to her side, slipping an arm around her waist and easing her onto a chair at the table. Regina looked like she was strongly debating batting her hand away and telling her she wasn't helpless. Instead the older woman bit her lip, wincing slightly and went along with the fussing.

"OK, relax a sec, and I will find something to get the blood off you," Emma ordered and turned back to the kitchen area.

After a fruitless search for cloths, she eventually returned with a bowl of water, a soap dispenser and a roll of paper towels.

"Right, let's find Storybrooke's infamous mayor under all this muck," Emma muttered softly, dipping some towels in the warmed, soapy water and squeezing tight. "Tilt your head back."

Regina hesitated for a moment - clearly unused to ceding control of proceedings to anyone, but finally relented. Her head arched back into the crook of Emma's left arm, the beautiful, vulnerable curve of her neck was on display to the blonde. Emma could not help feel a shot of tenderness at that moment rocket through her. That Regina would trust her like this - given she trusted no one. It was ... unexpected.

Emma was determined to be as gentle as possible. She trailed the wet paper down Regina's face, wiping away the blood and pastry splatters. She tossed the towel into a nearby bin and then repeated the action with a fresh paper towel. She slipped her fingers and towel across Regina's forehead and watched as the lines there relaxed.

She heard a soft noise. It might have been a gasp or a sigh.

"Am I hurting you? I didn't mean to."

"No," Regina whispered. "You're not."

And, for just a heartbeat, Emma froze, realising her question might be taken two ways. "I am glad," she finally decided, earning a small smile.

She began the more delicate operation of cleaning Regina's top lip. She reverently touched the scar she had always wondered about. Dried blood came away from under Regina's nose and the brunette gave a tiny flinch.

"Sorry," Emma said and bent closer. "That asshole really thumped you hard."

A reply was redundant so Regina just gave a small agreeing quirk of her lips. Emma finished the area and inspected the brunette's nose with the precision of a top surgeon. It seemed reddened but otherwise fine. The nosebleed had definitely stopped. Realising just how close she now was, she reared back and then reached for a new piece of towel to hide her embarrassment.

She patted the remaining moisture away from Regina's face and paused when she saw brown eyes studying her intently.

Emma sighed as she thought how close she'd come to losing the other woman. It irritated her all of a sudden.

"What were you thinking," she asked with a dark frown. "Taking on that man mountain over a stupid pastry?"

"I was thinking, Miss Swan, that _you_ very much like bear claws. There was only one. And he tried to steal it."

Emma considered that then pulled her hands away from Regina, scrunching the sodden towels into balls, throwing them into the bin. She turned back to grab the bowl and tip out the water in the sink. "You're crazy, you know that right?" she asked as she rinsed it.

Regina smirked. "So I've been told."

"This isn't funny, Regina." Emma took a few steps back to the table, and frowned at her. Then, without thinking, she ran her fingers through the brown hair so achingly near, to try and neaten it. She picked out a few flecks of pastry flakes.

"This is what I don't get: Unless you're holding out on being a black belt in karate or something, you are a politician. You sit behind a desk all day. You are not Jean freaking Claude Van Damme. And 99.99 per cent of women, and probably almost as many men, including the really big ones, would have backed down. So why not you? Shit Regina - it's like you have a death wish or something."

"Don't be absurd," the brunette said lazily. "I simply do not like bullies."

"That 'bully' could have killed you," Emma said shakily, staring down at her, eyes burning. "We _both_ know it. And yet you would take him on without a moment's concern. You do understand why this makes no sense?"

She stopped moving fingers through Regina's hair as she found a small lump on her skull. The other woman jerked away from the touch.

_Jesus, how hard did that asshole hit her?_

"Regina? You got battered and bloodied and, knowing you, you probably egged on the asshole, insulting him until it turned violent. Not that that makes him any less to blame. But tell me, am I wrong?"

At the brunette's telling silence Emma nodded and continued: "That's what I thought. So just tell me: Why did you - why DO you - have no fear?"

She genuinely could not understand it. It was perplexing.

The mayor pressed her lips together for a moment and her eyes briefly fluttered shut. "I ... simply never even thought about it."

Emma saw the truth in her eyes, along with something else, something quickly masked, before the eyelids briefly closed.

"What is it?" Emma pressed.

Regina's lips curled. "I suspect, dear, I am somewhat used to having everyone afraid of me," she explained and gave a sheepish bark of laughter. "I am the unchallenged authority in Storybrooke after all. I am used to having others back down."

Emma's lie detector pinged quietly and she suspected there was probably more to it than that.

She sighed. "OK, Regina Mills, now can you please get THIS into your hard head: Some of us are afraid FOR you, even if you aren't. And don't you DARE pull this crap ever again. I think I lost a year of my life seeing him menace you."

"Why, Miss Swan," Regina purred, eyes fixing on green. "Anyone would think you cared."

Emma narrowed her eyes and gave her a playful swat. "Shuddup," she growled. Her heart hammered when she remembered what she said - hell, shouted - to the entire truck stop. Her mouth had no censor button sometimes. It never did when she was scared out of her skin.

Regina's eyes warmed and she sat up and felt her own face, checking it. Her fingers then combed through her hair. Satisfied, she dropped them to her lap and announced: "Your turn."

Emma started. "What?"

"My dear, I was not the only one to feel that brutish bear's nasty little claws. You have also come away worse for wear."

The blonde blinked in surprise. And suddenly, hearing the words, she realised she was actually aching. She frowned and her face protested the motion instantly.

"Ow!" she said in astonishment and Regina smiled gently.

"That's what I thought," the mayor said, getting up. "Come on - have a seat."

Emma sat in the chair the mayor had just vacated and watched as she repeated what Emma had done. She dipped toweling into the bowl, squeezed and ran it over her face. Emma felt an instant shiver as the fingers ghosted her skin. She swallowed. The result of being cleaned was having an entirely different effect on her than it should. She squirmed uncomfortably.

"Sit still, Miss Swan. I can hardly take care of you if you're wriggling like Henry."

Emma froze, chastened, and tried not to react to the fiery trail searing across her skin with every pass of wet toweling.

She felt fingers now run through her hair, tugging the curls straight and she shut her eyes hastily. If she couldn't see the face hovering so close to hers, maybe...

A hand cupped her cheek. "Miss Swan?" a husky voice whispered. Low. Right beside her ear. "I am done."

Emma flicked her eyes open and discovered Regina was now inches from her. She licked her lips and shifted her gaze up to the amused brown pools watching her. It was like she knew somehow the effect she was having on her.

"T-thanks."

"It was all surface dirt. I think you mainly got blood off me. Which reminds me - I would really like to change." Her hand gestured at her shirt in displeasure.

Emma sat up straight and then leapt to her feet, curling her face awkwardly away from Regina's hand. "Well then I-I'll bring in your case."

"That won't actually help, Miss Swan. I don't wish to wear formal wear while we wait for the police, and that is all I have packed beyond this. I had anticipated being home before I needed any more casual clothing."

"OK," Emma nodded, thinking furiously, anxious to get some space between them. "I am sure I have something in my bag that will fit. Be right back."

She chose to ignore the sceptical eyebrow hike from the other woman, grabbed the Merc keys, and bolted.

As she closed the door and strode through the shop, she tried to get her breathing under control and her head back together. _For god's sake. She wasn't some hormonal teen. She should be able to get her face washed by someone without almost coming undone._

She passed Grylls sitting up groggily, and saw Frankie squatting in front of him and handing him a drink. She scowled and passed through the automatic doors, hearing the annoying buzz.

She popped the Merc's boot, grabbed her nearest bag and headed back inside. Grylls was trying to stand now and Frankie was telling him firmly to stay down. Fortunately the brute hadn't spotted her on either pass.

She closed the door of the staffroom behind her as she entered, then looked around in confusion.

No Regina.

A toilet suddenly flushed in one corner and Emma found herself smiling widely. So much for Miss Cast-Iron Bladder No Stops Are Necessary Mills. She dropped her bag on the floor and waited, arms crossed, until the door opened.

She gave the mayor a knowing smirk.

"Oh be quiet, Miss Swan," Regina said and rolled her eyes in annoyance, walking to the sink to wash her hands. "Yes, congratulations. You caught me. I'm human, too."

"Oh I am well aware," Emma retorted. "I've been saying that all along. I was just starting to wonder if you knew it, too."

Regina ignored her and patted her hands daintily dry on a paper towel. Finally she turned.

"So what hideous fashion eyesores have you in mind for me then?" she said, purposely changing the subject.

Emma snorted at the conversation shift and dropped to a crouch beside her bag. She undid the zip. "Tracksuit pants and tanktop?" she asked in amusement, and watched Regina's eyes scrape over the items in questions.

There was a condemning silence.

"Anything else?"

"Jeans? But they're kinda tight. Really, um," she swallowed, and flicked her eyes up over Regina's legs, "_seriously_ tight."

The mayor sighed. "Of course they are. God forbid you favour good circulation. Tracksuit pants it is then. At least tell me you have any color for the tanktop beyond white?"

"Nope," Emma disagreed cheerfully. "I am the Henry Ford of tanktops. Any color as long as it's white."

Regina pursed her lips as if expecting that. She dropped her coat over the chair and, without pausing, began to lift her blood-spattered designer T-shirt up her body.

Emma blinked in shock and then, a second too late, gave a small gasp and spun around to face the wall.

A white T-shirt landed beside Emma's bag.

"Miss Swan," came a teasing voice somewhat closer now. "Your shirt, if you don't mind?"

Emma shook her head to clear it and dropped to her knees like an anvil. She focused and found the tanktop and, without thinking, turned to pass it up to Regina.

_Oh hell._

_She was... magnificent._

Emma had seen her in sleepwear. Felt her curled around her as they woke. And she had seen glimpses of her bra that first, awful time.

But _this_. Regina's olive skin was set off deliciously against her lacy black bra that encased soft, generous swells. Emma faltered, her hand that had lifted halfway up to give her the shirt, dropping suddenly.

Redness rose up her neck when she realised Regina was standing, staring, hands on hips, waiting for the shirt. Emma thrust it at her inelegantly. "S-sorry."

"Quite all right, Miss Swan," the brunette said with a small smile. She dropped her voice an octave. "I have always rather liked to look myself."

Emma turned away, mortified at having been caught, and pulled out the grey tracksuit pants. She heard a rustle behind her as black pants dropped to the floor and a whispering noise as Regina stepped out of them.

"If you want to look again, I am _certain_ this view is even better."

Emma squeezed her eyes shut as if that could blot out her imagination. She shook her head and flicked her eyed open. She stared fixedly down at her bag, arranging and rearranging the same clothes, before zipping it up.

"I didn't mean to give you the wrong idea," Emma finally muttered. "Sorry. I just... ah, take the pants." She gestured in their general direction and waited, breath held.

She felt warmth as a hand snaked down, then heard the cotton pants being slid up Regina's sensual legs.

"It's safe to look now," came the ever-so-faintly mocking voice. "All modest once more."

Emma turned, wondering if this torturous moment would ever be over. Whatever she was about to say died on her lips.

She stared. To say Regina Mills looked incongruous was an understatement. It was like painting a moustache on the Mona Lisa to put the mayor's body into these sloppy clothes but somehow Mayor Mills had managed to pull the look off.

"You work out?" she blurted before she could stop herself, her eyes tracking to Regina's sleek, gently muscled biceps. They were... _hell_.

Regina laughed. "Is that seriously what you want to know right now?"

Emma gaped and finally shook her head yet again and closed her mouth, feeling foolish. "That just came out. And you're right. Your exercise habits are the least of what I want to know. In fact, it's time we had a talk. A real one."

Her voice firmed and she looked at the mayor seriously. All trace of hesitation gone.

Regina gathered up her soiled clothes, found a plastic bag and bundled them into it.

"Well then," she said, dropping the bag next to Emma's. She sat down and eyed her. "You're right. It is overdue. Let's talk."


	39. Chapter 39

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By Red Charcoal**

**.**

**CHAPTER 39: EMAIL FROM HENRY MILLS**

Emma leaned forward suddenly, unzipping her bag again, rooting around carelessly. "We can charge _and_ talk," she declared in answer to Regina's unspoken question. "I have to let Mandy know where I am before she starts putting out alerts for my kidnapping. And as amusing as that alert would probably be to read, especially the bit where she describes you, I think we've had enough drama for one day. Just need to juice up my phone a bit first."

She retrieved her cell-phone charger and stepped over to the kitchenette, flicking the toaster oven's plug out and plugging her own device in, then clicking in the phone. She returned to the table, slinking into the chair beside the mayor.

"Right then," she said.

The two women stared at each other for a moment.

"Uhh..." Emma muttered, feeling suddenly awkward. "Cops should take about an hour to get here given we're so far out of civilization, so we may as well get this ..." she waved a hand ... "talking business done while we have the time."

Regina gave a small smile and cleared her throat. "Where do you want to begin?" She steepled her fingers and then twisted them. Finally she flattened them on the white table.

Myriad questions shot through Emma's brain: _That day. Why you sent me away then. Why you wouldn't explain. How you've changed so much. Is the change real?  
_

_Can I ever trust you again?_

That last one was the million-dollar question.

She bit her lip for a moment.

"Let's just agree on one thing first," Emma offered.

Regina waited.

"Whatever we say here, now, we say the truth," the blonde continued. "No BS. All of it."

"OK," Regina said immediately. "The truth."

"You agreed too easily." Emma stared at her, the edges of her mouth pulling down in dismay.

"_What?_"

"How do I even know if I can trust your answers?"

"Well how on earth am I supposed to prove they're true?" Regina frowned and crossed her arms indignantly.

"I want to do a calibration. To see how honest you're going to be."

"You're questioning my honesty? Really Miss Swan…" Regina began.

"Nuh, uh, uh. No more pretty words or outraged glares. I want to see if you really are this new and improved version of yourself. Someone who won't hide the important stuff."

"_How_." Regina ground out the question as a statement, squared her jaw, lips pressed tightly together.

"All you have to do is answer one question honestly and then I will know how much you're willing to share." Emma leaned back in the chair and waited for the almost certain objection.

Regina stared at her. "One question?"

Emma nodded.

"Fine. What is it?"

Emma stared. _OK. Game on._

"Why did you take me dancing last night? You could have given me the wedding invitation over dinner. The dancing was completely irrelevant to anything."

Regina's face changed slowly and Emma realised the other woman had just worked out the dangers and layers of her question. It was an easy one to dismiss with a glib answer. Any other time, the mayor would have offered a smart remark or a flippant brush-off.

This was not any other time.

Her eyebrows rose. "Miss Swan." She exhaled heavily.

Emma watched her anxiously and waited. She couldn't help bracing herself for the lying to begin. Leopards and spots came to mind.

Instead Regina gave one of her perfect toothy smiles and began: "Because there was a strong possibility you would not agree to come to Storybrooke with me I thought this might be the last time I saw you. So, truthfully Miss Swan, I wanted to have that feeling again of you in my arms. I wanted to replace my last memory of you shouting and crying against my door with one of you holding me. And me holding you."

Regina did not drop eye contact. In fact her eyes challenged her. "Honest enough for you, dear?" she added with a teasing drawl. She ran a shaky hand through her hair but otherwise gave no sign of embarrassment.

Emma stared in surprise. _That had been, well, incredibly honest._ "Yes," she said hoarsely. "Um, thanks."

She looked away, realising her heart had started thumping hard. This was turning out considerably more difficult than she had anticipated.

"I get a question, too."

Emma glanced up to see Regina staring at her with burning, determined eyes.

"Huh?"

"I would like to see where you stand on honesty, also. It is only fair, Miss Swan."

"Oh," Emma said and bit her lip. "OK, ask."

Regina hesitated for a moment and then stared at a spot in front of her on the table, thinking. She flicked her eyes up. "When you kissed me last night, later you said it had been a mistake. Did you really believe that?"

_Oh hell._

Emma watched Regina for a moment, saw the way her head tilted, as if she was hoping for something. Something that meant a lot to her.

"Yes," Emma admitted gently. "I did believe that. I still do."

She saw Regina flinch and a flash of anger and disappointment cross her face.

"So much for honesty! I can see this exercise of talking things through will be a waste of time." Her voice was dark with pain and hurt. She growled. "You felt it, too," Regina accused. "I know you did. And you just lied to my face."

Emma shook her head and spread her hands before her. "Regina you did not ask whether I desired you. That is quite a different question than whether I think we're ready to do things together with our tongues that make me forget my own name."

Regina's head reared back in surprise. "_What?_"

"If this thing between us was _only_ about desire, you would never have left my office yesterday with any shirt buttons left on. And I strongly doubt my desk would have survived the experience. But Regina you didn't ask whether I _want_ you. You already know the answer after that kiss.

"But I also know the last time we tried to escalate things before we were ready, it ended up with us both messed up so badly we barely crawled away from it. Then I cried into my beer for 18 months. Surely we've both learnt from that clusterfuck?"

"I…you… what are you saying?" Regina asked, frowning as she tried to pick it apart. "That you never want to try again or you do but you don't want to rush into things?"

"I don't know," Emma sighed in frustration. She ran her fingers roughly through her hair. "Honestly, I _don't_. That's what I have been trying to figure out since the moment I opened my office door and found you poured into my visitor's chair like some decadent lesbian wet dream from a 1940s detective novel."

"Oh." Regina blinked in confusion.

"Yeah - Oh. Look, why don't we just forget about all this 'us' stuff for now. Nothing has to be figured out this minute. We were going to talk about the other business so let's just do that."

Regina stared for a beat and nodded. "All right. Let's talk."

Emma paused and studied the brunette. Getting started was the hard bit.

"OK... Did you know I got an email from Henry?" Emma began. "About you actually." She rubbed her thumb against the edge of the table distractedly. Her eye shifted back to Regina, who was watching her with an inscrutable expression. She stopped, a little afraid of open this particular Pandora's box.

Finally Regina broke the silence. "I thought, Miss Swan, you had instructed everyone to keep you in the dark as to my movements."

A slight coolness settled across the mayor's features.

Emma sucked in a breath. "Yeah I did say that."

Regina pursed her lips. "So, Henry defied your wishes. Was that a novelty for you?" she asked with just a hint of snark that revealed it still stung how Henry used to treat her.

Emma snorted. "Please he's _your_ kid, Regina - wilful, smart and incredibly strong-minded. He defies whoever he wants on a regular basis. Why would I be any different?"

Regina looked faintly offended for half a second and then finally shook her head and sighed. "Perhaps. So what did he say in his email? Was I 'being mean' to him?"

Curiousity filled her tone and she leaned closer.

Emma swallowed anxiously and captured brown eyes with green_._ "Henry said you had finally defeated the Leopold monster. You were able to sleep again, all night long, without nightmares or pills. And he thought I would want to know that." Emma paused and added quietly: "He was right."

There was a heavy silence and Emma could see the pain flitting around the edge of Regina's eyes as she relived something dark. The mayor took in a harsh inhalation of air and let it out with a shudder.

Guilt flooded the blonde for raising it but she knew this conversation was going to get worse before it got better.

Regina nodded uncomfortably but even that simple motion belied a world of pain. The brunette dropped her eyes, examining her hands again, fidgeting. She didn't - or couldn't - speak.

"I-I was really pleased for you Regina. I really was," Emma said, filling the void.. "I... it really had a massive impact on me."

She said it sincerely and hesitated. Regina's eyes flew up to meet hers.

Emma took a deep breath. _All the truth._ "I, uh, well the thing is - I cried my heart out."

She blushed hotly, suddenly wondering if it was too late to call this whole conversation off. It was probably one of the dumbest times and places ever to have a heart to heart. The problem was she didn't know if they'd get the chance later. Or if Regina would even be willing later.

Regina stared at her in surprise. "You cried?"

"I am so sorry you went through all that because of me," Emma pushed on. "If I could have endured that shit for you I would have. And, hey, seeing is believing, right? Watching you just drift off to sleep in the car today was pretty damn great." She grinned.

Regina's face twisted into a smirk. "It could have just been because you were with me. You know I could always sleep with you beside me."

"I didn't think of that," Emma gasped, her jaw dropping. "Oh! Is that why?"

"No," the brunette said, her facing creasing into a small smile. "More likely it was to do with only having two hours sleep. But yes, Henry was right. The 'Leopold monster' is dead now."

She ground out the name with immense satisfaction and Emma found herself wondering yet again exactly who this bastard was and precisely what he had done to her. She only knew the snatches from what Regina called out at night.

"You want to know who he is." Regina stated flatly. Not really a question.

"I wouldn't have asked," Emma said quietly.

"I appreciate that. Can we leave it at the fact he was a very brutal ex that I had no choice but to have in my life and bed. He knew I hated being there. It was an arranged match courtesy of my mother who did not care how much I suffered or what I ... lost."

Emma exhaled. Well that explained a few things. Regina radiated sadness.

"You were young then?"

"Very."

The blonde shook her head. "I am so sorry you went through that."

"As am I."

"Is he still around? Cos, uh, you've seen me today, I've got some moves." Emma cracked her knuckles. She pitched her words lightly but there was a part of her who would cheerfully love to kick Leopold's groin in. If not his skull.

"My hero," Regina muttered slightly mockingly but her pleased brown eyes danced. And for once Emma felt she had said exactly the right thing. "Oh and dear? He is long dead."

"Good. Fucking asshole." She scowled.

"Indeed." Regina actually seemed amused at Emma's fury.

A new silence fell.

"How did you stop them? The nightmares I mean?"

Regina thought for a moment then finally whispered one word: "Archie."

* * *

STORYBROOKE PAST

"You felt helpless," Archie Hopper droned on. "Alone. Afraid."

Regina rolled her eyes. It was their fourth session trying to work on stopping the nightmares and the brunette was ready to toss the prying, maddening insect out of the window. He was relentless. But he was also her last best hope.

"Your point?"

"No one in that situation could have survived with their sanity intact without some coping method," the doctor said sympathetically. "And I believe you disassociated. Switched off your mind as it was happening. It was like you were outside your body, watching it happen to someone else."

Regina felt the shudder pass through her.

"Not at first," she disagreed. "I initially felt every awful moment."

"But later?"

"Later," she said flatly. "Yes."

"And in time you simply suppressed all of it beyond the basics."

She shrugged. "So it seems."

"Until Emma's attack. And it all came back."

"We've been over this doctor. And over and over. You know all this."

"I am explaining. It came back because you hid it from yourself and never dealt with it. And now we are dealing with it."

Regina chewed the inside of her cheek, wishing she had a fast-forward spell to whisk her through this clinical hell until she came out all healed and happy and fixed. Like a shiny new toy.

"How does any of this help me sleep?" she demanded.

"The more you articulate the form and actions of your abuser, the less a hold he has on you. He becomes no longer a formless nameless shadow. Conversely, the more you shy from it and suppress what happened, the larger the fear becomes. A fear so great even sleep offers no escape. In fact your sleep is where your subconscious mind can finally demand you deal with it."

Regina sighed. "This is a waste of time," she growled. She leapt out of the chair and stormed to her favourite spot by the window.

It was the same complaint she made every week.

"If you're making me relive this goddamned agony and it doesn't work, I swear I will ..."

"Are you really going to threaten me again, Madame Mayor? Because have you seen the size of my boyfriend?"

Regina's head whipped around to gape at the doctor. She couldn't entirely quash the small twitch of amusement she felt at his surprising attempt at levity. The audacity!

"Careful doctor, someone might accuse you of having a sense of humor."

"I think that's highly unlikely, Regina," he said. He hid his grin and began to polish his glasses. "Look, I know this is hard. I also know this technique has worked for many others in your situation." He looked at her so reasonably it was annoying.

Regina snorted. _Her situation._ Wives of monarchs suffering marital rape in Fairytale lands. Yes, a common enough problem. All four of them would have to set up a support group.

"Does Matt ever get tired of your oh-so-reasonable tone, dear?" Regina asked suddenly. "Must be very trying having to date you. Everything has to be talked out endlessly. Ad infinitum."

She smiled cockily, her eyes containing an icy chill.

"You're deflecting again. I know it's hard but Regina, you can do this. We were up to the second night. Remember? You felt helpless and alone. Afraid. He came to your bed drunk."

Ughh. That image again. She wished her mind could just delete it, like a plastic button on a keyboard.

Regina's hand curled into a fist as she stared outside. She could make out Kathryn walking down the street with Frederick. She looked, well ... deliriously happy. They both did. A pang went through her and she wondered what it would be like to do that. Just be free to be with someone you wanted to be with. Without any encumbrances or secrecy.

She had never once felt that.

Her mind shifted. To Emma. She scowled, wondering why the blonde had been making so many cameos in her head lately. She watched Frederick unselfconsciously tuck a hand in his girlfriend's and lean in for a quick kiss on the cheek.

Regina sighed.

Even if Emma had stayed in Storybrooke they would never have progressed to being an actual couple. It was unthinkable. Besides, the other woman would probably have run by now anyway without the mayor needing to give her the push. It was in her nature. Really, Regina had just hastened the inevitable. She had done them both a service.

Right?

"You're thinking of Emma Swan again."

She turned. "What makes you say that?" she growled, shooting him a warning look.

"Your back always tenses in a particular way. Do you want to talk about her yet? How you feel about her? I know you have a lot of conflict to address."

Regina scowled darkly at him until he lost the hopeful expression and then she stalked back to her chair. She folded her hands precisely in her lap. "It was late," she repeated in an irritated voice. "I was alone. And I was afraid."

Archie Hopper watched her closely and began to scribble notes.

Her lip curled in fear and anger. "The bastard was _very_ drunk. He began to shout..."

* * *

BILL'S EATS AND FUEL - PRESENT

"We talked a lot," Regina murmured and glanced away. Her eyes lost focus. "It took a long time to get it all out ... to diminish the memory of Leopold in my mind. So it didn't feel like I was being stabbed every single time I thought of what happened."

"It worked though?"

"Eventually. Reliving it was..." she scowled. "Not pleasant. But I think I starved my demons of oxygen in the end. Or bored myself to death talking about them," she said with a wry smile. It fell away after a moment. "It took a long time," she repeated softly. "And then one day, when I tried to sleep without the pills, I found that I could."

Without thinking Emma's hand shot out across the table and gave Regina's a squeeze. She didn't speak. The brunette shot her a grateful look.

They sat in companionable silence for a bit until Emma remembered she had a somewhat vital call to make.

"One sec," Emma said rising and heading to the kitchenette. "Let me just text Mandy where we are. She must be going nuts."

She turned on the phone. Two seconds later the device began to vibrate and beep crazily in her hand.

Regina's eyebrows shot up.

Emma shook her head. "Wow. OK. So it seems she was." She read in silence for a moment, her face undergoing an array of emotions from amusement to a frown.

"Well, ah, she thinks you're either having your wicked way with me or wickedly doing away with me."

She tapped out a reply and hit send. "I hate to disappoint her on both counts." She grinned and caught Regina's eye.

"Only two options?" the brunette said lazily. "Really I am much more multi-skilled than that."

The phone vibrated again.

"She says she always knew you were trouble."

Regina waved a hand. "Please. I'm a pussy," she purred.

Emma suddenly felt her mouth go dry. Hearing that word come out of that mouth seemed faintly obscene. Regina's rich laugh at her shocked expression made it worse.

The phone beeped again and with relief Emma looked away from Regina.

"Ah, now Mandy is threatening you if you do anything to me."

Emma began tapping.

"What are you replying, dear?"

Emma flicked a glance at the brunette. "I wrote 'too late'."

Surprise registered from the brunette and Emma glanced up when she realised how that sounded. "I meant you whisking me away here and our encounter with the bear-man. Obviously that's not nothing. What did _you_ think I meant?"

Regina pulled a face. "Oh I had all sorts of delicious thoughts. Now put that thing down and come back to the table. It's time I hear the uncensored story of your adventures. We can come back to me later."

Emma dropped the phone on the counter, after putting it into silent mode, and returned to the seat facing Regina.

"I am not sure where to start. Do you want the tears, fears or beers?"

"Yes."

"Which one?"

"All of it."

"That's what I was afraid of."


	40. Chapter 40

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By Red Charcoal**

**CHAPTER 40: DROVE AND DROVE AND DROVE**

"I saw you in my rear vision mirror as I drove away," Emma began, leaning her chin on her fist. "I wondered if you were making sure I left."

Regina didn't immediately react to the half joke with its tinge of bitterness. Finally she spoke. "I followed you, you know. A few minutes behind you. All the way to the border. To see if you'd turn back or deviate."

The "but you didn't" hung between them like pungent air freshener.

"Did you want me to?" Emma asked in surprise. "You were pretty damn clear in the text."

Regina bit her lip and smoothed a non-existent wrinkle out of her pants. "I wasn't doing a lot of thinking that day. I thought I wanted you to go. That it would solve everything. Make my head stop... all the things it was doing. Help us both. But I expected you to fight to stay, too. And when you didn't..."

Emma's eyes flashed. "I pleaded on your fucking steps, ON MY KNEES, for you to change your mind. I cried into your door and thumped it and BEGGED you. What part of that isn't fighting?"

Regina sighed. "I know that. But a part of me ... well. I still thought you might try to stay. Somehow. Defy me. One more time. I didn't think ... I didn't entirely expect you would just ... _go_." Her voice faded out at the admission.

"You really didn't think I'd ...?'' Emma sputtered, anger tinging her voice. "After _all_ we went through, you expected me to ignore your wishes once again?"

"I ..." Regina began. "Well," she spread her hands, "You were unpredictable. Yes, I thought you might."

"You had such a low regard for me?"

Silence fell between them again and Emma knew she looked as morose as she felt. Regina seemed about to argue with her conclusion then shook her head in resignation.

"We're getting off track," the brunette murmured. "You were going to tell me what happened after you crossed the line. How you ended up with your own bounty-hunting business."

Emma's eyes shifted to the mayor and regarded her for a beat. "Sure you want to know everything?"

Regina paused. "We both hit rock bottom in Storybrooke. What could you possibly say now that would make things worse than what we went through?"

"I may remind you of that sentence in a minute, Regina." Emma's mouth attempted a smirk but it twisted sadly. "But ... OK, you asked."

Regina nodded, eyes dark.

"I drove," Emma said with a frustrated puff of breath as she remembered. "And drove. And drove. At first I had no idea where I was going. The days seemed to run together.

"I went through every cheap one-hotel town there was. I would get plastered every night and crash on a different tacky budget-motel bedspread in the small hours. It was pretty much a blur for the first month. If I was lucky I'd pass out and wake up the next day with little memory of the night before and rinse and repeat. If I was unlucky, I couldn't sleep and would sit out on rusty balconies staring at the stars and curse your name.

"Sometimes - or so the front desk staff would tell me - I would get a little too, uh, merry for my own good. One night I may have dangled from a balcony at some crappy motor inn and sung a few songs from the top of my lungs."

She felt embarrassed remembering and cringed.

"I woke up one day in my room on the floor in wet clothes and reeking. The receptionist who insisted, with fairly colorful wording, it was time I moved on, said I had fallen into the pool below and nearly drowned. The cleaners hauled me out just in time and dumped me in my room.

"I remember thinking it was actually more than I deserved. So I just climbed into my car, still smelling like soggy chlorinated cat, and kept on driving.

"I still had no plan, I just wanted to not have to think so much and driving was mind numbing.

"Sometimes I'd get texts or emails from Mary Margaret or Ruby or Henry. They all said the same thing: "Why?" and "Come home". Well Mary Margaret only said the last bit."

Emma's eyes flicked to Regina. "I'm sorry but I think she knew all of it in the end. Pretty sure she guessed."

Regina nodded, her lips thinning. "I believe so. She was far too understanding after you left."

Her face was so pained that Emma gave a small snort and rubbed her temples. Regina would _hate_ having her former roomie's sympathy.

She continued her story.

"When I reached the outskirts of Boston, it was obvious my brain had given up waiting for me to do any kind of higher-order thinking and was just taking me back to the familiar. To what I knew. When I realised where I was, I figured maybe a routine was just what I needed after all the emotional chaos. I sure as hell knew by then that getting blind drunk every night wasn't achieving anything. All it achieved was that I felt like crap, 24/7.

"My funds were going down fast, despite only staying at flea pits and drinking rat-hole booze specials. So I decided to go back to my old boss."

* * *

She closed her eyes. The memories came flooding back. It had been the first day of feeling maybe, just maybe, she had a plan. Something encroaching hope had begun curling around the edges of her consciousness. Not enough to cheer her up, but enough to have her front up in freshly laundromat-cleaned jeans and tank-top.

She had actually smiled as she entered her old workplace building. Nostalgia was a powerful thing. She'd done alright here. Bob had been a good guy. Well fair to her, at least. He never pawed her or hit on her and usually respected her abilities - although his personal hygiene may have left a bit to be desired. Especially in summer.

She could still smell the tinge of sweat that would coat his office like cologne.

So she felt almost-hope as she walked up to the battered brown door, pushed it in and saw a whole new business there instead. Accounting firm.

"May I help you ma'am," came a chirpy woman's voice from behind her.

She spun around to see an impossibly small woman in a 1960s floral blouse staring at her expectantly.

"I ... um, where's Bob's Bailsmen gone? Where's Bob?"

The woman pursed her garish red lips. "Bankrupt. Downturn got him. You'd have to ask my boss if you want to know more. Personally you'd think he'd have had more criminals on his hands than ever in hard times, but apparently his best bounty hunter just up and disappeared. Some woman just shot through and left him one night."

Emma swallowed. _Well shit, she didn't realize she was that pivotal to anyone.  
_

"Know where he went?"

The woman turned and leaned into a glass office behind her. "Hey Joe, whatever happened to Bob?"

"Who?" came a bellow back.

"The bounty hunter feller. The bald guy who sweated everywhere. You're in his office for Christ's sake."

"Knave Investigations took him on."

"Thanks." She turned back. "Knave Investigations. Anything else I can..."

Emma had already left, jaw firmed, striding away. _Knave. Those assholes. World's snakiest skankiest firm._ No way in hell would she end up there. She had crossed paths with more than one of their charming employees on jobs and there was no underhanded move they wouldn't try, nor sleazy pickup line they wouldn't attempt on her.

She'd sooner shovel shit. _And frankly, she already had._

She tried to pretend she wasn't disappointed as she stalked back to her far-too-cheefully-yellow car and slammed the door. She started it up after a moment and floored it, heading for her old drinking hole. _Booze always made everything better_, she reasoned, with a snarl. _Well, before it made it worse._

Emma paused in her story, wondering how much to reveal about what happened next. She flicked her eyes towards Regina's whose burned deep chocolate brown. "Continue," the mayor said in a low voice.

Emma licked her lips, and suddenly she was back in the seedy watering hole.

* * *

Sports memorabilia was everywhere around the walls. It came with a smell of dried booze. And dirty windows she could barely see out of. Blinds hadn't been cleaned in years. But it had decent music and prices to match.

She was sliding back a fourth beer when she saw her. Lean and beautiful, tall with wavy shoulder-length brown hair and a ready smile.

Emma's first thought had been instant: _Regina Mills without the hangups._ And then she'd felt guilty about even thinking it and slugged back the rest of her beer.

She slid the now empty, sudsy glass onto the bar and looked anywhere else but at the beauty who was a foot away and closing. She felt rather than saw the woman slip onto the stool beside her.

"Hey sweetie, haven't seen you in here before."

That was the other thing about this particular drinking spot. It was a bit of a renowned pick-up joint. For people seeking "casual, discreet" encounters. Not entirely _straight_ casual encounters, either. But it swung both ways. She had found it amusing to watch the mating sideshow when she'd lived in Boston before. Besides the beers really were cheap. She would often hang out here with her secretary, whose smart-alec lines could make anything better.

She slid her eyes to the posters of WNBA players lining the walls and wondered if she could deal with a new complication right now. Her first day back in Boston. Jobless. Homeless. Now this.

"Pussy got your tongue?" The stranger asked, dripping with innuendo. She was clearly laughing at her and Emma, head buzzing pleasantly after four beers, wondered if maybe she should just take the free fuck for what it was and stop overthinking everything.

It had been months and months since she'd had sex. She'd lost track. She screwed up her face for a moment trying to recall who and where and when. She sure as hell didn't count what she'd done with Regina that day. Or _to_ her, to be precise. So, probably over a year, then. Maybe more.

Her eyes languidly perused the flirt beside her. Well hell. She wore a sharp, sexy businesswoman's pantsuit. How very ... mayoral. Emma licked her lips. Maybe something mindless and empty would be just the thing to forget the person so completely overpowering her senses that she thought of little else.

So she smiled, her even white teeth splitting her face, transforming it into beauty, although the deadness never left her eyes.

The woman matched her with a wide smirk of her own.

* * *

The next day she woke up in a tangle of limbs. Naked. Muscles strained. A few new bruises. (Hickey-sized.) She frowned as she stared at them, tracing them with questing fingers. And she had a thumping head.

"Wait a minute," Regina interrupted. "You had sex with a stranger a month after you left town? You forgot me so fast?" She bored eyes into her, laced with disapproval.

Emma took in Regina's outraged face and laughed mirthlessly. "Forgot YOU? _If only_," she muttered. "Regina, you asked me to tell you everything. I am. And the reason I slept with her is not because I forgot you so easily but that I couldn't get you out of my head. I could just pretend with her and it was OK. None of the other shit had happened and you and I were just..."

She waved her hand. "Together. In my mind at least. But when I woke up she wasn't you. Nothing like it. And if I thought _we_ were complex, I was about to find out just how NOT you she was."

Regina's eyebrow lifted, sceptically. "Go on," she insisted.

Emma swallowed. "OK so right then her girlfriend of four years came home. She'd apparently been away on assignment or something for ages and ages, and now there she was - all large as life and butch as hell and suddenly towering over us in the bedroom, strutting and screaming about cheating and God knows what else and throwing things. I was trying to get my pants on and avoid projectiles and the girl I had been with was just laughing. Loving it. Like she'd planned it - planned to get caught. Loving the jealousy.

"At some point, some of the objects she was tossing around hit a few walls, and the screaming must have gotten the attention of the neighbors because next thing I know the police are bursting in. By then I had my clothes on at least. But the crazy girlfriend had decided it'd be smart to wave the kitchen knife at me."

Emma grimaced. "I felt like I was trapped in a really fucking bad soap opera. It was surreal. One moment everyone was screaming, and knives were drawn and the next everything was real quiet. The couple were hissing insults at each other. The sergeant takes in the whole scene, gives the jealous girlfriend an evil stinky eye and she suddenly drops the knife and looks guilty as all hell and backs away. He barks at her not to move and then he suddenly goes out to make a call. I put on my boots while he's gone. When he comes back a minute later he asks to talk to me in private outside.

"He wants to know how disposed I'd be to NOT press charges."

Emma shrugged. "I just wanted outta there anyway. Not like I planned to ever see any of those crazies again. He asked for my details, my phone number and what I did for a living, and I told him. Then he suggested I be on my way and tell no one what happened. I didn't care, so I said "sure", and I bolted."

"Next day my phone rings. Boston PD wants me to come in for a job interview. They need a freelance bounty hunter to do some tracking work for them on a casual basis. Stuff involving work near the state border, that they don't have the resources to do themselves. They'd looked into me, rung my old boss and decided I was their 'ideal candidate'."

Emma shook her head, incredulously. "Ideal candidate? It was so fucking ridiculous. How did they know who my boss was? When the cop asked what company I worked for, I gave them the old place's name - before it went bust. So it was pretty unlikely they checked out anyone I knew. But I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I said yes.

"I was back on the job, and it felt good. Boston PD slung me a few bounty contracts here or there. Always way in the middle of nowhere but the pay was good. I'd been at it for four months and one day I got called in to the HQ to fill out some paperwork they said I'd 'overlooked' when I first began.

"When I read the papers, I realised it was all an elaborate scam. They didn't actually need me to do the work at all. I was really just being paid to shut the fuck up. The paperwork was a confidentiality agreement about what had happened that day. When I saw the name at the bottom of the form signing off on it, I knew it was time to leave.

"By that time, though, I had built up my contacts and knew I could make far more money working closer to the city on my own. I didn't sign anything. I just up and left. I printed up a few cards and left them with old clients and contacts. Later I got an office. Rented a basic place, nothing fancy - you saw it - just to get me out of my car. A few months after that, I found a temp secretary I could tolerate to take calls and stuff. She turned out to be a good operator and a great friend to me."

"Who was she?" Regina interjected.

"Who? My secretary? You met her."

"The crazy jealous girlfriend. Who the police mysteriously had no interest in prosecuting? You must have been curious."

Emma smiled and drummed her fingers on the table. "As a matter of fact I was. It didn't take much digging. She's the daughter of the Police Commissioner. And his job was up for re-election that year."

"Ah."

"Yep. Can you imagine the headlines? Knife-wielding police chief's daughter in tawdry lesbian sex scandal?"

Regina's lips pressed together, in what seemed awfully like jealousy.

"Associating with the very highest class of people I see, dear," the brunette mocked.

Emma glared at her. "I normally choose my partners a lot better than that. No entanglements. No married people. That only ends in tears, trust me. But you had me so messed up I forgot to even ask if she was with anyone."

Regina almost growled. "So you having sexual congress with the very first woman you met after leaving Storybrooke is now my fault?"

Emma looked at the floor. "Well a little, yeah. OK, no. Shit, alright, it was just really bad judgment while I had my beer goggles on and brain parked elsewhere."

"Were there others?"

"A couple," Emma replied uncomfortably. She looked down. "Same result though."

"What? Near-arrests? Scandalous lesbian trysts? News at Ten?"

"One-night stands, no emotions," Emma said with a scowl. "Just sex. It didn't change anything. I still dreamt about you. Still raged against you when I was awake. Always about you," she sighed. "Besides, after awhile they all started to just merge. By the time I dated a brunette politician in a navy power suit, it was so transparent even to me what I was doing that I stopped going out altogether. I hadn't dated in ages till..."

"That awful country singing lawyer looked nothing like me!" Regina interrupted, divining the end of the sentence.

"Yeah," Emma sighed. "She was my attempt to change my pattern and start over. And that worked out SO well. We didn't get past starters if you recall."

"Oh, I recall," Regina said, miffed. "So your time away from me was spent bounty-hunting and screwing? How lovely for you."

Emma sighed. "Regina - you asked; I told. Please don't pretend this is somehow shocking news to you. You threw ME away, remember? There were no promises made. The opposite in fact: You no longer wanted me. You couldn't stand the sight of me remember? Your exact words."

The mayor inhaled a shaky breath and eyed her for a moment. "I never saw it as that, you know,'' she corrected. "Throwing you away? I wanted us to have our best chances. We were destroying each other in that co-dependent mess we had. It was like mutually-assured destruction."

"Yet you decided all this on both our behalfs, without any of my input," Emma said with an indignant growl. "Can't you see you didn't have that right? That's what burns me even now. You just assume you do because you're the mayor, or the head bitch in charge or whatever, but when it comes to our ... whatever it was we had, Regina, you just decided. You fucking don't do 'equal' well."

"No," Regina agreed tiredly. "I don't. An equal relationship has always been a foreign concept to me. Quite. Alien." She folded her arms. "It is something I need much work on."

Emma's eyebrows lifted in shock. Whatever she had expected her to say, that was not it. "Uh..." She faltered.

Regina gave a small smile.

"You really are not the woman I left behind in Storybrooke, are you?" Emma asked wonderingly. "I mean ... you're... _really_ different."

Regina tilted her head. "No, dear," she said and pinned her with a look directly in her eyes. "I am definitely not her. Nor would I ever wish to be her. She was miserable and hurt and broken."

Emma considered that thoughtfully. "Yeah," she finally said and gave a reassuring smile. "I was too."

They stared at each other and understanding passed between them. It was like ominous black rain clouds had parted and they could finally see each other for the first time amid the drizzle. Emma lifted her arm to Regina's. To comfort or seek comfort, she wasn't entirely sure.

Suddenly there was a loud noise, which made them jump, and then the door to the staff room flung open.

"Cops are here," Frankie announced, jerking his thumb behind him. "This way."

They could see a uniformed male and female police officer standing behind him so both women rose, walking briskly towards the door.

Emma froze. "Oh fuck," she hissed and took two steps backwards. "No, no, no."

Regina turned back to stare. "What is it?"

Emma felt the blood drain out of her face. She dropped her voice so only Regina could hear. "I hadn't realised she was still on the force,'' she whispered urgently. "You're about to meet the infamous daughter of Boston's Police Commissioner."


	41. Chapter 41

**THE STAIRCASE**  
**By Red Charcoal**

**CHAPTER 41: FAT TROUT**

Regina's eyes raked the imposing woman. Tall, dark and poised, her athletic body was taut and honed. Strong. The woman's restless eyes roamed the room, and she shifted impatiently under her pale steel-grey uniform, unbuttoned at the neck to show a white tee-shirt.

The mayor mused she seemed like a panther desperate to be unleashed to run down its prey. She'd felt like that once, in the years before the curse and Storybrooke's - and Henry's - domesticating influence.

She'd forgotten what a powerful, intimidating figure having so much energy and anger could generate. Like the bear she had grappled with earlier, Regina suspected this one had never met her match.

But then, she'd also never met Regina Mills before, either. When two alpha females battle, one crawls away with their ovaries in their purse. And she'd be damned if that would be her.

Regina's eyes took in the detail of the small stitched shield covering each uniformed bicep which suggested the Boston woman was now based in Skowhegan, Maine. She frowned and tried to dredge up what she knew about the place - which wasn't much. Middle of nowhere. Old. Historic. Small. Which explained why the officer looked like she would she was ready to jump out of her skin with restlessness. There was definitely a story there, and the mayor would guess it wasn't a happy one. A woman like that doesn't choose Skowhegan off her own bat.

Her eyes trailed up to closely cropped black hair and dark brown eyes that looked both bored and intense. Regina watched as impatient hands slid to trim hips and the cop adopted an alpha pose like she was born to it. She seemed all at once unafraid, under-utilised, and completely dangerous.

Little wonder then that her partner looked constantly jumpy. Regina's eyes flicked to him. He was younger, nervy, small-framed, bearing a computer-gamer's level of greyish pale skin, and sweating as though the walk from the patrol car had overtaxed him.

Regina could not imagine a more opposite pair. She wondered if the incongruous match-up was some amused local police chief's idea of a joke. Had Regina had the power she probably would have tried something similar to rile a certain annoying Deputy Sheriff back in the day. Her lips twitched in spite of herself as she pictured Emma on patrol with Leroy.

She was almost sorry she hadn't orchestrated it. But by then Graham had grown a spine. The usual wash of regret she had as she thought of him flooded her system and she forced herself to think of something else.

The panther's eyes were still roaming and Regina waited, curiously, for them to fall on Emma and recognise her. She needed to gauge just how big a problem they were about to have.

It did not take long.

Cursory brown eyes flicked onto green and were about to keep moving when they stopped suddenly and went back, the tall woman's face transforming from bored to incredulous. Then angry. A new expression flicked briefly across the officer's features before a mask of professional indifference dropped down.

_Too late._ Regina smiled thinly. She had seen that particular look in the mirror for years: Vengeance. She knew it like a second scaly skin.

The male officer ran fingers through his hair once and then spoke.

"I'm Patrol Officer Simon J. Kennedy and this is Patrol Officer Nene Jackson. We're here to investigate an assault complaint from a male person in his 30s, who goes by the name Grylls. Apparently you two female individuals are the alleged, uh, violent perpetrators." He anxiously glanced over to Emma and Regina, as if expecting a furious reaction.

Emma shifted her weight from one foot to another but said nothing. Regina merely watched the scene play out.

There was a heavy silence which was only punctuated by a low moan from further down the aisle - Grylls.

Frankie, clearly sensing the growing tension, suddenly decided to make himself scarce and mumbled something about manning the counter.

Officer Jackson stepped forward and physically imposed herself inside Emma's space, forcing the blonde to arc her neck back to look her in the eye.

_Ah. Pissing contest then_, Regina mused. _And the woman was going on the offensive. So not easily cowed then._

Jackson took another step even closer to Emma.

Regina scowled, not liking the intimidation tactic on the blonde one bit - even if she used to employ it herself. (But that was different.)

"You," Jackson hissed, too low for the other officer to hear. But Regina heard it perfectly.

"Me," Emma replied in a matching, warning tone. "Look, do you really want to do this? Now? With the dirt I have on you?"

"What dirt?" Jackson spat out, "You have nothing. What's the worst that can happen anyway? I'll be shipped off to Skowhegan, Maine?"

Emma faltered and clamped her mouth shut again.

_So much for blackmail._ Regina frowned, rethinking her strategy quickly. _Definitely not easily cowed. And things were heading south fast._ She needed...

Jackson lifted her voice into a sharp, professional snap and turned to face the pasty officer chewing on his thumbnail a small distance away.

"Officer Kennedy, why don't you take the poor victim's testimony and I will ask these two _ladies_ what they _think_ happened."

The sentence contained an impressive amount of subtext, Regina noted - from the subtle inference they were unreliable witnesses and Grylls was somehow helpless and pathetic, to the less-than-subtle suggestion they were anything but ladies. It was a baiting technique Regina had often employed and she found her eyebrows lifting in surprise at how adept this stranger was at it.

_So_, she paused. _Jackson was no amateur in the art of manipulation. And she was clever. Not to be underestimated._

Regina cleared her throat, drawing all eyes to her.

"I just have to use the bathroom," she said easily, turning to leave, jostling Emma's hand as she did so.

In the unobtrusive motion she slipped the blonde's cell phone from her hand into her own and pocketed it, heading back to the staff room.

If Emma felt any surprise at fingers briefly entangling hers and her phone being mysteriously hijacked by the brunette, she gave no sign.

Regina sat at the table and set to work. They were damn lucky Emma had brought her phone inside. Hers was still in the car. She wasn't entirely sure what she was looking for as she opened the internet browser and typed in the words "Nene Jackson'' and "Boston police commissioner'' but Regina was a politician. And one thing she knew better than anyone else was finding an opponent's weakness and exploiting the hell out of it. And the other thing she knew was the internet was the receptical for everyone's trash. She just had to sift through it.

As she hunted, Regina contemplated Jackson. There was a woman who had nothing left to lose, had been deprived the right to face her enemy when she was professionally and privately censured and was now spoiling for a fight.

In two more taps she found herself at a page that profiled Boston's Police Commissioner, one Sheldon Emmett Jackson. Her eyes took in a photo of a well-dressed, handsome man in an extremely expensive suit waving to the crowd, hand on the shoulder of an older man. Her eyes slipped to the background and noted where he was. _Interesting_. She continued reading and eventually a slow, cold smile crossed her features.

Well this was one viable path to pursue, for sure. But she wondered whether Nene Jackson could be manipulated another way, though. Her thermonuclear solution might not even be necessary. She tapped her lip thoughtfully for a moment and almost laughed at herself. She was getting weak. There was a time she would never consider the soft option. Now she was not only considering it, she was planning on trying it out.

She wondered what had changed? All those sessions with Archie? The whole of Storybrooke slowly thawing when it discovered its mayor was not the unfeeling dictator they had assumed? When she had revealed to them after a town meeting one day that she wanted to try and bring Emma back because the town needed its sheriff?

Actually, that was probably the moment. First Kathryn had rushed forward and hugged her impulsively on hearing the pronouncement. That had been galling enough. But then, when she hadn't ranted at the woman, an overwhelmed Ruby had taken courage and gone in for a brief, grateful hug as well. Then Henry - _where had he even come from anyway?_ - flung himself joyfully at her. He was all elbows and shining bright eyes and toothy grin. And, to her horror, feeling him willingly in her arms again for the first time in years, tears began to slide down her cheeks before she could stop them. And that was when the sympathetic murmuring had sounded - a ripple through the crowd - hammering away at her so loudly she had wanted to scream at them all to shut up.

Finally Eugenia "Granny" Lucas had leaned over and whispered in her ear: "For god's sake, stop looking like it's your execution, Mayor Mills. THIS has to be better than the silent treatment they've all been giving you since Emma left. Try a smile. It'll work wonders."

And she had tried one - simply for lack of knowing what else to do. That had been the _exact_ moment everything changed. It was the moment, to her dismay, she had irrevocably lost the authority she had always commanded through fear and intimidation. All washed away the moment she had offered them all that pained, pathetic, faintly watery and completely embarrassed half smile, with Henry still burrowed firmly into her waist.

She had gained something else, though. It was _almost_ a friendship (although not anything quite so cloying) from people she had always kept at arm's length, some of whom she had actively despised. More like an opening. A small tree's worth of olive branches.

They had persisted with their overtures as the days rolled on. Small compliments that they were grateful for how well she kept the town running. Or asking how her day was. Regina simply hadn't known how to stop them battering away at her defenses with irritating attempts at kindness. At first she had ignored them. Then it got too much.

She had complained about them to Archie one day who hid his smile and said she was being simply welcomed into their hearts as one of them.

_One of THEM? __She was a queen for God's sake. She'd never be one of them. And - hello - also evil?_

She had glowered at him, looking so utterly appalled that he actually laughed aloud this time. He took his glasses off and wiped them.

Finally he perched them back on his nose and explained: "I am not laughing at you, Regina. I am just glad so many people are at last seeing your best self, not what you imagine to be your worst self. And not what they had imagined you to be when their fear of you got the better of them."

"But I preferred them afraid of me," Regina had protested, throwing her hands up in disgust.

"Too late. They know you're human now!" Archie had actually beamed. "Fear is overrated, anyway. It is just an excuse to keep people away."

That had stymied her. _Didn't she want people to stay away?_ She was no longer quite so sure. As if sensing her confusion and hesitance and gleefully exploiting it, the thawing of Storybrooke had continued - Regina utterly helpless to stop it.

It did have one positive though. Some mornings she would catch her son staring at her with an almost kind look on his face. As if deciding she wasn't all _that_ evil. Making allowances - as much as he could for someone with such a linear, neatly boxed, good v bad view of the world.

"Is this the week you go and get Emma back?" he'd always ask hopefully, shoving spoonfuls of cereal in his mouth.

She'd shake her head, trying to ignore the fact he was getting milk and cornflakes everywhere, and explain she was still busy planning.

He would give her a sloppy grin and keep on chewing. She would try to memorise that look as she deftly wiped up the milky spatters, relieved to have him back. She'd give him a soft smile.

But when she'd had two failed attempts to leave for Boston, despite her best efforts at overcoming her anxiety, she wondered if she had lost him again. She feared he thought it was some trick all along. When he had begun withdrawing and becoming secretive, it felt like her worst fears were being realised. It turned out that that had been when her son had called in the big guns. A secret mission to get her to Boston. To Emma.

The entire drive to Boston she had fixated on how intensely she hated that Henry had involved quite so many people in the scheme. _Especially_...

She sighed. Well. Relations between her and Mary Margaret had improved to the point she couldn't entirely sneer upon seeing her any longer. She no longer crossed the road when she saw her coming. She knew, in the end, it was because they had shared the periphery of something terrible - what Emma had gone through, and what Regina had endured.

Mary Margaret had lived parts of it, too, scorched by the comet's tail that tore through them all. She was one of very few people who knew all of it. Really knew Regina's hell and seemed to sense her regrets. She understood. It gave her a unique front-row perspective and Regina decided she simply could no longer be bothered being angry or humiliated about that anymore. She had to accept it.

Besides, they shared something else, too, which made them almost allies. (Although she'd rather rip her tongue out than admit it out loud.) A powerful desire to see Emma come back to Storybrooke. And to see her stay.

So the thaw had been on. And when Henry had clearly asked half of Storybrooke to help him get his mother to Boston to find Emma, they had apparently willingly all signed on.

As much as she hated it, the tactic had worked. There was no denying the results - the woman in question was now on the other side of the door, preparing to head back to Storybrooke with her.

Or she would be, if a certain officer hadn't shown up with vengeance on her mind.

Regina mentally gave herself a shake, appalled she had lapsed into a stroll down a past better forgotten when she was needed in the present. She quickly made her way to the door, and smoothed her outfit down.

Just before she turned the handle, Emma's phone beeped with an incoming email alert and Regina automatically glanced down, reading the short summary that flashed up on the home screen.

It was from Mandy, Emma's secretary. The mayor had quite enjoyed meeting the sociable woman, all frightful smells and inappropriate revelations, but who was also seriously entertaining and fiercely loyal under it all. The very opposite of bland, which had bored her about most people in Storybrooke for years. She read the message summary again and frowned.

After a moment's hesitation, she tapped the email to open it fully. Her mouth fell open and she stared for a full three minutes at what lay before her. Well...that was... She shook her head.

She quickly pocketed the phone and headed out to join the fray.

* * *

Emma had watched Regina leave with mounting dread. She was now left to the mercies of a woman who had threatened her with a kitchen knife when they'd last met, shortly after the blonde had apparently fucked the hell out of her girlfriend of four years. There was no nice way of papering over this from either side. But she was going to try.

"Well," Jackson began very softly. "We meet again. The little slut who stole my life."

Emma rammed her hands in her pockets and shrugged. "Not my intention," she muttered.

The officer growled and the hairs on the back of Emma's neck stood up.

"I'd hate to see what you accomplish when it _is_ your intention," Jackson said. "I have been living in Outer Buttfuck, Maine thanks to you. The highlights are a bread-kneading festival and Maple Syrup Week."

Emma's eyes narrowed. "Hey, no one made you throw a tantrum while waving a lethal weapon. Your change in living arrangements was all your doing."

A hand shot out at head height and impacted the wall with a slap right beside Emma's ear. "Screw. You. Bitch," she hissed very softly but the menace was clear. "I loved Kristy. And you cost me her. So I may not get to keep my old life, but Sugar, I sure as goddamn can make yours as unpleasant as possible right now."

_Kristy_, Emma thought. _So that was her name._

"Oh Christ," the police officer muttered, "You didn't even know her name, did you? You broke us up, ruined my life, and didn't even know her name?"

Emma glanced down. _All true. _

"Look I never meant to come between anyone," Emma countered with a hint of apology. "She came on to me. I didn't even know she was taken."

"Did you bother to ask?"

Emma scowled. That had actually been one of her regrets that day.

The other woman's face twisted into an ugly mask, taking her silence for the correct answer.

"I'm sorry your life turned out so shitty," Emma tried again. "And dear old Daddy probably forced you to move states for the sake of god knows what he must have called it? Propriety? Character building? Protecting him from conservative voter backlash?"

Jackson winced and Emma realised she'd scored a direct hit. "But _I_ didn't do any of that," she said flatly. "You did. And he did. And, while we're on the topic, Kristy did."

At the sound of her ex's name, the police woman's eyes flashed with fury.

"Fuck you," she ground out shakily, "and that pretty piece of ass you're with."

Emma's eyes narrowed and Jackson's expression lit up knowingly. "Oh I see, so she does mean something to you." She leaned closer. "I suppose I could get my own back if I borrowed her for a while. Even up the ledger."

Her voice was cruel, lewd; her intent nasty.

Emma forced herself not to react. She counted to ten then shook her head. "Seriously, Officer, you need to work on your evil monologuing," she smirked, "Cos that's some bad B-grade shit you are spouting there. The mayor would chew you up and spit you out for breakfast."

"_Mayor?_"

Confusion and something darker flickered across Jackson's face and Emma realised the other woman hadn't a clue what Regina's job was. And now that she knew, it clearly meant something to her. There was something else going on that she couldn't put her finger on.

"Besides," Emma continued after a beat, "what makes you think we're together?"

Before she could answer, two things happened simultaneously. The door opened from the staff room and Grylls began shouting, his voice richocheting around the room, forcing the cop interviewing him to jump a foot back in alarm: "Those two FUCKING DYKES should be locked away! They're a GODDAMN MENACE. They attacked me with no warning, I shit you not."

"You were saying?" Jackson asked sweetly. "Even the stupid thug knows who you like to snack on."

Emma glowered and shook her head in vigorous denial as the officer laughed in her face, turning just as Regina stepped out of the back room. She was touching up her lipstick, and flicking her hair - doing a rather good impression of a vacuous party girl. Emma paused to stare. Or gape, would be more accurate. _What the hell?_

"Oh geez, quite the Paris Hilton you bagged there," Jackson muttered to Emma under her breath. She leaned forward closer and whispered right in the blonde's ear. "Still I bet she's a tiger with her panties dangling around her ankles. The uptight ones always love it hard and dirty. I might just volunteer to show her some moves."

Emma had reached her limit of crassness. Her arm lashed out and would have gladly squeezed the other woman's throat if a restraining arm hadn't instantly latched on out of nowhere and pulled her back.

"Sorry about that, Officer," Regina drawled, eyes glittering, and lowered Emma's arm.

"Quite the hot-head you have there," Jackson said, inclining her head rudely towards Emma. She moved closer to Regina and offered her a stunning, evocative smile, that set Emma's teeth on edge. Jackson was actually seriously beautiful when she did that and the blonde was horrified when Regina returned it a second later with a perfect dazzler of her own.

Emma could not deny the jealousy crawling in her belly for a split second before she remembered where she'd seen that smile before. One part cheshire cat, one part promise of heady dreams. It was a politician's smile. She eyed the mayor curiously, wondering what game she was up to.

"Why don't we go and have a little chat in there, just the two of us?" Regina suggested, crooking an elegant finger to point to the door behind her. She was oozing pure charm. Campaign-mode Regina, Emma identified. She was irresistible. Riveting. Powerful. But so was Jackson - who also had a badge and the law on her side, and a very strong desire to see them locked up. Watching the two head bitches in charge have a charm-off was making her head pound. Fear rocketed through her veins. This could not end well.

"Regina..." Emma objected, warningly.

The brunette shot her a quelling look, turning back to Jackson, all smiles once more.

The police officer, however, cackled in delight at the apparent divide she could sense between them.

"Why of course, ma'am. After you."

* * *

Regina sat primly in her chair in the staff room and folded her hands on the table daintily. Step one in any new negotiation - make them underestimate you. The other woman had already dismissed her intellect for the simple act of preening. She had heard the Paris Hilton jibe. It was a clever trick she had picked up from her mother, actually.

"Miss Swan tells me you two have a ... troubled past," Regina began, eyes innocent.

Step two - seek information and elaboration. In their words.

"Your Miss Swan is a thief."

"Indeed she is," Regina agreed readily with a small smile. "Although she never stole anything from me on the scale she took from you."

The other woman seemed disconcerted by this sudden common ground. She eyed Regina suspiciously.

The brunette leaned forward. "But right now, officer, I imagine you are in quite the bind."

"How do you figure, ma'am?" Jackson folded her arms, defensively.

"Well," Regina began, "Do you get revenge on Miss Swan for turning your life upside down? For stealing your girlfriend? But in doing so you side with a homophobic bully and self-confessed abuser of women who should probably be taught a lesson. Not an easy choice I imagine. Especially for a woman like yourself?"

"What do you mean a woman like myself?" she snarled.

"Do I really have to spell it out, dear? I imagine your police partner has no clue as to your ... inclinations. While you think he is annoying enough with all his little quirks, he is at least inoffensive. But this - this would be a significant problem for him and you are well aware of that."

Step three: If in doubt, bluff. You might even hook a fat trout.

Jackson gaped. "How did you..."

Trout landed. Reel it in like crazy.

Regina sighed pointedly.

"I know the type," she said sympathetically. "But I digress, dear. Your choice is whether to side with an abusive brute or not."

She let her eyes drift to one side casually to take in the room, as though she hadn't seen it before. It gave the impression she had no real care as to the outcome of Jackson's conscience searching and was merely a humble observer.

"Why would I give a crap about Grylls and his caveman views?" Jackson finally responded. "You can't fight them all. There are plenty more like him out there. But your blonde bit? With her I can finally repay the shit she has put me through."

Regina adopted her most earnest expression. "Why would you care about Grylls? Because for all your bravado, and even beneath all your hatred for Miss Swan, you strike me as a woman who is dedicated to justice. YOU chose this career, no one else. So you clearly believe in fairness and ultimately doing the right thing."

Nene Jackson eyed Regina for a moment. "Grylls is a big asshole," she finally conceded.

Regina nodded hopefully. _Sometimes a simple appeal to an ego was all it took._ Her hopes rose.

"But so's your girlfriend."

_Crap._

"She can be," Regina offered neutrally, hoping to scrabble back from the looming abyss. "But she is not my girlfriend. She is actually my town's sheriff. She moved to Boston and I have spent some time looking for her as the residents really would like her back. She was very good at the various duties she performed for me."

"I'll just bet." The officer gave a leer that left nothing to the imagination.

_Double crap._ Regina tried one last time. Soft options were pretty useless after all, it seemed.

"I am just asking, Officer, for you to do the fair and noble thing and not let a bully off the hook. He attacked me over a pastry of all things. If my sheriff hadn't been there to haul him off me, I dread to think what would have happened. And what might happen the next time to the next woman."

The other woman pursed her lips and frowned, thinking. Regina held her breath.

"You are the smooth one, I'll give you that," she finally said with a low laugh. "All charm and uppity finishing-school manners. The problem is, ma'am, I am not buying the helpless routine for one minute. You're shrewd, playing on my vanity like that. My sense of justice and righteousness, my being a cop? Ha, nice try. But see the thing is I didn't choose this job. I am from a long line of cops. It was expected I'd do it. So, you see, Sugar, I don't do this for some crusade against evil. I do it because it is my family's heritage and that's all that matters.

"Now, this ... thing you do ..." she waved her hand up and down in front of Regina's face and chest, "it's impressive and sly. Probably makes men putty in your hand, right?" She didn't wait for an answer. "But Grylls is like a big dumb territorial dog. And you would have had to poke him with a stick or goad him pretty hard for him to attack like that. And with your fancy britches big three-dollar words, you probably insulted the fuck out of him."

Regina lifted an eyebrow, reluctantly impressed at the officer's deductive skills. The appeal to the woman's nobility should have worked. It did work on most people.

"I ..." Regina began smoothly.

"Before you shmooze me again, lady, or try and twist me with your impressive charms, I should point out I have also seen the security tape. It has no audio, but it's clear you were not a blameless little lamb in this."

"He attacked me first," Regina protested lightly. "The tape must show that. No court would ever convict based on that."

"I actually agree on that. And I'd say they won't." Jackson leaned forward and gave a smile. "I destroyed the tape."

"What?" Regina's eyes flashed open.

"It slipped off the counter and I accidentally may have walked on it when Kennedy's back was turned. Once or twice. Because you're right, it does actually look like he is intimidating you. His size alone makes you look like the victim.

"But that tape doesn't play into my grand vision for you both," she added with a nasty smirk, "a vision which involves a cramped little cell and a lot of adjournments before this ever gets to court. I am fairly sure I could stall for months. And just for the cherry on top, I know the district's local magistrate, real well. Saved his kid's life a few months back. So bail? What bail?"

Regina sat stock still for a moment. She had completely misread her quarry. That didn't happen often. She was neither a defender of the weak nor easily manipulated. She was disturbingly familiar, actually.

"If that'd be all? I have an asshole 'victim' to console and a thieving bitch sheriff to bang-up in a cell. Along with yourself, of course. Madame Mayor."

The woman's intense smile was now disturbing. She thought she had won. She rose cockily to her feet, preparing to leave.

Enough. Regina instantly dropped the facade of civility, her features rearranging into seriously pissed.

_Fine. Step Four, if all else fails, unleash The Evil Queen._

Jackson froze in surprise as agreeable Regina Mills vanished and a glittering, dangerous predator took her place. Like a vicious bird of prey suddenly unfurling enormous wings, the mayor's presence filled the room. For a moment the two women just stared at each other, taking the other's measure.

Regina offered her most unsettling smile, enjoying the uncertainty which briefly crossed the other woman's face. She licked her lips in anticipation.

_Round two._

"It must be hard having to be out here in the middle of nowhere," Regina began, the edge in her voice unmistakeable.

"I don't know about that," the officer retorted drily. "The Skowhegan suspension bridge is renowned in this area."

"And I believe there's a button museum not too far away," Regina supplied helpfully, taunting. "Mustn't forget that, dear."

"What's your point?"

Regina smiled. Her quarry had already told her what mattered to her.

"You accepted the interstate transfer your father arranged like a good daughter. You became a police officer because of him. Family is important to you. Such a pity you humiliated and disappointed him like that."

She paused to enjoy the flare of rage in burning brown eyes watching her.

"It would be a pity if the reasons for your being hidden out here like the secret family shame were made public. It would seriously hurt him, wouldn't it?"

Jackson snorted. "Please. He is untouchable now. I live in a different state, I am not in his chain of command. He won his election easily. And he's retiring next year, so what could you possibly do to him - or me - by sharing old news?"

Bluff called.

Regina's lips curved and she leaned back in the chair, enjoying seeing the hint of fear play out around the edge of the woman's eyes. For all her bluster, Officer Nene Jackson was definitely afraid of something. And Regina was pretty sure she had a fair idea of what.

She played her ace card. "You must have practised that line in your head the moment you recognised Miss Swan. All the reasons why your tawdry, violent night of shame doesn't hurt Daddy anymore. But we both know that's a lie."

"What the hell do you mean?"

"I happen to know Daddy wants to be Boston's next mayor, when he retires as police chief. And we both know it."

"You can't possibly know that," Jackson faded out, uncertainly.

"Oh, my dear, but I do. It takes one politician to notice the behaviors of another. The ostentatious declarations of his goals to clean up crime, his populist fear-mongering targeting certain minority groups that have no numbers to defend themselves in the media. His sudden interest in uttering key phrases like 'family values'. What police chief cares about such hollow rhetoric?

"And let's not forget a certain influential evangelical church ... showy attendance every Sunday, complete with appearances on the steps and waving to the crowd, arm in arm with the reverend? Quite a spectacle he is making of himself. I suspect he will announce his run quite soon. And you are lacking any political acumen or intelligence if you think that arresting a harmless smalltown sheriff and mayor after they have been cruelly attacked won't cause any waves."

"Your word against Grylls. I told you, there is no tape." Jackson gave a slimey smirk. Relief was plastered across her face.

Regina pulled out Emma's phone. "Actually, dear, not quite. It seems the gentleman in question's exploits have ... what's the word? Gone viral?"

She tapped on the email from Mandy that read: "What the hell have you two been up to? I Googled that fleapit stop you're at and look what came up!'' Beneath it was a YouTube link. Regina hit play. In vivid colour, with clear audio, was most of their fight. And Grylls' foul language and nasty threats were as clear as Emma's dogged bravery in trying to unpeel him from Regina with all her might.

"I would think the two women only defending themselves from a vile brute should probably be allowed to go on their way, don't you dear?" Regina asked sweetly. "Because if you impede us, not only will I use all my substantial political savvy to make sure every media outlet in the nation gets this video, but I will also explain there is malice because the officer who arrested us had earlier held a knife to my sheriff. And even if they don't believe that, it won't matter. The story will be everywhere. Police brutality. Sex scandal. All right around the time your father wants to announce his run for mayor. And if you think Police Chief Jackson is unhappy with you now, I can just imagine how proud he'll be after this.

"And just for fun, I might even drop a word in your uptight colleague's ear on the way out about what really brings you to Skowhegan," Regina purred, as panic flooded the other woman's face. It was a bluff but it seemed to be doing the job nicely. She sat back and waited for the inevitable capitulation.

"Fuck, lady," Jackson growled in fury, "You really are a politician. But you've forgotten one thing: Grylls will want to press charges." She shook her head. "So your threats are meaningless. He will howl long and loud if we don't charge you two."

"Leave that to me," Regina said simply, as if it were of no consequence. "Now, are we done?" She gave another wide smile.

Jackson shrugged. "Good luck getting the asshole to retract his statement," she snorted. "If you can do that, then you're free to go." She gave such a disbelieving look Regina almost laughed.

She paused as she took in the defeated, angry countenance of her foe scowling darkly at her. She felt a flash of something akin to sympathy. The bristly, restless, frustrated woman really was a bit more similar to the old her than she'd care to admit. Trapped by circumstance, thwarted love, family demands and bad choices.

"Well I will soon be on my way, but may I impart one little piece of advice?" Regina began. She hesitated and dropped the mocking from her tone before continuing. "From experience I can tell you that doing any role or job because of a parent's expectations and not your own only leads to a life of utter misery. You're too young to waste it all. Get out of here. Time to live your own life."

Jackson glared at her incredulously and growled: "Mind your own goddamn business. Oh and if I might offer YOU a bit of advice? If you want to pretend you don't have the hots for someone, try not eyefuck her every three seconds. For a politician you really aren't as smart as you think."

Regina paused and let the insult wash over her. "At least I HAVE someone in my life to eyefuck, dear," she said quietly.

She gave her a pitying stare and stalked out.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later Emma and Regina were putting on their seatbelts, and the mayor was humming contentedly as she reversed the car out of the lot. That had been surprisingly good for her mood, turning the bear into a whimpering puddle, begging her forgiveness. The big brute had folded in exactly three minutes, 22 seconds.

"How?" Emma asked, still staring in wonder at her. "I go to put my bag back in the car and when I come back he's all 'so sorry ma'am, please don't'. Did you threaten to sue him or something? Or sic the Mafia on him? What?"

"No dear," Regina replied and pointed to the cell phone on the dash. "Do check your email. And pay particular attention to the title on the video."

Emma took her phone and tapped into her account.

She read quickly, then frowned in confusion at Mandy's words, clicking on the video. Her eyes widened. "The kid," she muttered, realising who the cameraman was.

"Look at the title," Regina repeated and smirked as she pulled out onto Route 95.

Emma read: "Gutless douchey bully gets rolled by two chicks at Bill's Eats and Fuel. FIGHT!"

She clicked "Expand" and read on "Watch the blonde nail him in the nuts! Stupid Grylls won't walk straight for a month. Laughing SO hard."

"Ah," Emma said and locked her phone, pocketing it. "Punched him right in the male ego."

"Mhhhm," Regina agreed with a chuckle. "I told him I would see to it that it got emailed it to everyone he knows if he persisted with his demands we be prosecuted."

"Can you do that?"

"Of course not. How would I know who he knows?" Regina shrugged. "But he seemed stupid enough to believe me which is all that matters."

Emma grinned.

"And Jackson? What the hell did you say to her? She looked like she had been jumped by a herd of stampeding wilderbeest when she came out of the staff room."

"We just discussed politics, really. I made a strong case for her releasing two innocent victims of crime."

Emma snorted. "God, you're..."

"Yes dear?"

"Good. You really, _really_ good."

"Thank you, dear. Now I believe we've delayed our journey long enough. Shall we?"

Emma grinned and gave a nod.

Regina put her foot down and the sleek black Mercedes shot forward, onward toward Storybrooke.

* * *

**Author's note:** I humbly apologise to anyone from Skowhegan. I am sure it is a lovely town and its police force full of committed individuals who don't see their home as "Outer Buttfuck, Maine". If you're in the area, check out the old suspension bridge. I hear it is scenic. Grin.


	42. Chapter 42

**THE STAIRCASE**  
**By Red Charcoal**

**CHAPTER 42:** **SOFT**

.

"I believe you by the way." Emma spoke softly and Regina glanced from the road to look at her passenger.

"Well that's nice, dear, but you'll have to be a bit more specific." She smiled easily, teeth gleaming against olive skin, and Emma was struck yet again by how much more open this version of the mayor was.

"That you've really changed."

The silence hung between them for a few beats before Regina's eyes flicked back to the road. Her fingers tightened on the black leather steering wheel.

"Thank you," she said quietly and a wealth of emotions seemed to hang off the word.

The brunette licked her lips and turned slightly. "Does this mean you might be willing to give us another chance?"

"I thought there was 'no us'," Emma retorted, only half joking, unable to resist recalling the times Regina had made that perfectly clear.

Regina's lips thinned. "I suppose I deserve that. But you haven't answered my question. Or do you need more time?"

Emma leaned her head against the window and watched the scenery whiz by. They had only an hour or so left of travel and were getting further and further away from civilization. The trees were a darker emerald green now; fewer cars passed them on the road coming towards them.

For a moment her breath fogged the cold window and she found it a relief against her warm skin.

"I think I'll go with 'undecided' for now," she said after a moment. "But I think before I get anywhere near reaching a decision, I want you to tell me something."

Regina's eyes tightened and she tensed.

Emma caught the motion out of the corner of her eye and offered a curious look. "What on earth are you thinking I am about to ask you?"

Regina gave a mirthless laugh and forcibly relaxed her features. "Knowing you, dear, absolutely anything."

She gave her shoulders a wiggle as if to relax herself further and then said: "Alright, ask."

"You've changed a lot, personality wise," Emma began. "For the better, I mean, you're so much better, right? I am glad, really." She gave a reassuring smile.

Regina merely cocked an eyebrow with a faintly pleased expression and waited.

"But what I am trying to understand most - what I really NEED to understand - is how you went from hating me..." Regina made to object so Emma put up her hand and clarified. "...or at the very least not seeing me as friend-worthy to... " She waved her hand between them. "Wanting me. With you. As an actual 'us'. Cos that, right there - that's like the mother of all missing links for me. It's like a seismic freaking shift from what I knew about you that day I drove away. And I just don't get it."

She sucked in a big breath. "So, tell me: what changed?"

Regina's hands caressed the steering wheel and she eyed the snaking road ahead thoughtfully.

"That is a big question, Emma," she said distantly. "A very big question."

* * *

**STORYBROOKE PAST**

She had told them all she wanted to get their sheriff back for them. A town needs its sheriff, after all. Having sheriff office shifts split between two part-timers - David Nolan (who basically did the grunt work) and Ruby Lucas (who did the office work) - was beyond insufficient. Everyone knew it. They were one disaster or serious accident away from coming apart at the seams. It had been pure dumb luck the town hadn't needed a full-time sheriff yet in Emma's absence.

Regina had walked out of the hall that day after all those cloying hugs and, worse, displays of misty-eyed sympathy, and her eyes had fallen on the cricket.

Archie Hopper was leaning on his ridiculous umbrella at the back of the room, away from the crowd, watching her with a knowing expression that she did not like one little bit. Her lips had pressed together and she glared, daring him to challenge her reasons.

Instead of being intimidated, he merely blinked at her placidly. As she neared, she felt a chill skitter down her spine, half expecting him to just blurt out to the entire town why he thought she _really_ needed Emma back.

He did not speak, although his gaze tracked her as she passed him. She felt relief and then wondered how long she could avoid that conversation for.

Not long, as it turned out.

After their session a few weeks later where he had gleefully announced she was now seen as "human" and she had predictably protested, he had watched her for a moment and offered a tiny smile.

"I think you're ready," he finally announced.

"What?"

"Emma. It's time we addressed the, erm, red-jacketed elephant in the room." He seemed faintly impressed with himself at the attempt at wit.

Regina rolled her eyes and had virtually leapt from her chair to stalk to her spot at the window. It gave her a tiny measure of comfort. She didn't bother to deny she knew what he was talking about. She stared out gloomily.

"I don't think so, doctor," she said. "I am not ready."

"Well if you intend to track her down and interact with her again soon, we should probably discuss how you feel about her."

Regina let her head rest against the window frame. "I don't want to," she mumbled. Her heart thumped furiously as she considered the blonde. She almost clutched her chest to smooth away the thundering beating - instead curling her hand into a fist at the last moment. "Hurts."

"I know," Archie said kindly. "But, Regina, that is a child's response. And you are stronger than you think. You can do this. If love didn't hurt so much, perhaps it wouldn't be worth the fight to get it?"

"Love?!" Regina had spun back to gape at him. "Who said anything about love?" Her eyes darkened warningly.

He lifted a consoling hand. "The pursuit of love then," he amended. "But even if you _do_ love her, that's OK, too. You are ready to, you know."

"Whatever happened to it being a bad idea?" Regina scowled. "In this very room, you told me it wouldn't work."

"It wouldn't work _then_," Archie replied. "It was a less sound idea then. Back when you were so..."

He paused as he sought the right word.

"_Broken_, doctor," Regina said, nipping the word cleanly like pruning a nasty thorn, and turned back to the window. "You can say it. I came to terms with it."

_And evil_, she silently added. _Don't forget that bit. _Although she was secretly working on that part, at least.

As if reading her mind, the doctor spoke: "I know you have been working to change yourself. To be better than you were. Your progress has been remarkable."

Regina ignored the compliment. They were too freely handed out these days, anyway. And, increasingly, far too intimate for her liking.

_Why Madame Mayor, how smart you look today. Is it a new haircut?_

_You seem so much happier, Ms Mills. It's lovely to see._

___Regina, we think it's so wonderful of you to ask Emma to return. Truly wonderful.  
_

She rolled her eyes at them all. Her motives were not exactly pure and selfless. If only they knew. Emma was like a drug she had repeatedly tried and failed to expunge from her system. Now she had just accepted she needed it. Needed her.

But that didn't mean she loved her._ She didn't do love._ And it didn't mean she was unbroken. Yet. But she _was_ trying.

Archie continued: "I have seen the changes you have made. Remarkable. And not just on the inside. External efforts, as well."

That got her attention. She turned, left eyebrow scraping the heavens. "What do you mean?" she asked silkily. "_External_ efforts?"

"Would I be correct in assuming Mr Gold's new girlfriend - appearing out of nowhere one day - was something to do with you?"

"How did..." Regina's eyes crinkled in confusion. She had told no one about Belle. Just silently, secretly snuck in and released her one day, gave her directions to Gold's house and asked her to keep her involvement quiet.

It had been a spur of the moment decision. If she wanted to be less evil, she had reasoned at the time, she may as well start by undoing any evil that could still be undone. Even as she had put the warm coat around small, trembling shoulders, she had wondered if she had just opened a perilous can of worms. But as huge eyes had looked up gratefully at her, taking the map, she found she didn't care.

She was getting soft.

To that end, she also had spent the past few months returning the stored hearts. All of them. She had her alarm set to 1am most days and by 4am would be back in her own bed after her nightly special ops. Skeleton keys did have their uses. And with one exception, no one woke up.

That exception, mercifully, had been Leroy, who she had whispered in his ear should go back to sleep as he was drunk and imagining things. He had believed her.

And even if he hadn't - who would believe him?

She did wonder, fleetingly, at times why she bothered at all. It wasn't like she could proudly present a list of her good deeds to Emma as proof she was worthy of a saviour's attentions. But Regina would know. And, deep down, she knew it mattered.

Her thoughts drifted and she realised the doctor hadn't answered her question.

"Explain," she ordered. "What makes you think I know about Belle?"

"Mr Gold took her to see me, concerned she was mentally harmed by being incarcerated in a mental institution for years. In the course of her session, she described to me being rescued by a beautiful brunette in an expensive suit. That narrowed things down."

_Rescued?_ Regina almost choked. That was one word for what she had done to the poor girl. The sleeping meds hidden in Belle's meals for years were clearly exceptionally effective if she couldn't recall who visited her off and on in the ward over the years.

She paused. _Poor girl?_ She almost choked a second time.

_Definitely getting soft._

"She must be mistaken," Regina said smoothly. "I don't do rescues." She waved her hand indifferently. She pretended it meant nothing to her. And it hadn't meant much, really, she repeatedly told herself.

Although when she'd passed Gold on the street the next day he had stopped and looked at her hard, his mouth working, as if unable to decide what to say. Torn between gratitude and anger. The silence had dragged on as he warred so she had leaned in and suggested quietly: "It's time. Enough of the old enmities. That's why. Let's be done with it."

As she had been about to keep on walking, his walking stick reached out to bar her path. She heard him hiss: "Truce then, dearie. And only because you never used her for blackmail or deals with me. And only because she is still _my Belle_.''

She could hear the wonder and warmth slip out unbidden in his last two words and she knew his love for the girl had probably saved Regina from a pretty vicious reprisal.

"Truce," she confirmed and pushed the walking stick away and resumed walking. The word had sounded so agreeable as if it was neither here nor there. But she felt unaccountably strange that he had found someone who filled him with joy. It had been an odd sensation - and it took a long while to process her reaction. Eventually she concluded she felt _good _about what she had done.

Curious - she was actually wishing happiness for others who had no bearing on her life at all.

_Really, really soft._

"You don't do rescues?" Archie repeated, eyes twinkling. "And you don't do acts of charity either, I suppose."

Regina's mind shifted, drawn back into Hopper's conversation. She frowned. "You've lost me. Or do you mean Matt's riding program? City Hall handles those funding stipends without my involvement."

"You gave Miss Blanchard a sizeable cheque for her school fundraiser."

There was a beat and Regina opened her mouth and then shut it again. Irritated.

"She was supposed to keep that to herself."

"She was extremely grateful."

"I was protecting Henry's welfare. We can't have a school hall falling into disrepair during the Arts Fair. Besides, as mayor, I have a certain lattitude..."

"Regina," Archie sighed. "It was a personal cheque."

Regina bit her lip. Finally she sighed.

"No good deed goes unpunished it seems."

She hadn't actually intended to ever mend that particular bridge. Or even go near it. She had turned up at the school fundraiser purely because it was her civic duty. She would make a speech, shake some hands, tolerate Miss Blanchard's prattle about how wonderful it was to see everyone and have everyone's support.

Instead...

She sighed. Instead she had found herself trapped in a quiet corner of the hall actually talking to the annoying woman. It had started with a discussion about Henry but had segued into Emma. And before she knew it, she had felt a wave of shared kinship over needing the blonde back. Needing her back so powerfully it hurt. And no one else understood why it was so important to her, so necessary for... for reasons.

But _she_ did.

And in that tiny split second, barely a single pump of heart, Regina knew the teacher felt exactly the same way. In that infintessimally small moment, when time seemed frozen, Regina had briefly warmed to her. She had a sudden flashback to who she had been as a girl. And how Regina hadn't always entirely hated her with every single outraged molecule of her being.

It was gone in a second. A single beat. Time resumed. But their eyes had locked and something had happened. Something greater than both of them.

She shook her head in confusion and Miss Blanchard walked quickly away, equally unsettled by a shared recognition that she had no memories to put into context.

Regina had stood stock still for long minutes, shocked to even find a microscopic sliver of care for the woman. For the girl she had been. It rattled her to the core. Finally she decided it was probably their shared Emma affection which connected them. That _had_ to be all it was.

The thought lingered though. She felt restless. Her fingers had twitched to rid herself of the feeling. So before she had left the fundraiser she surreptitiously dropped a cheque into the collections bowl. Not quite an olive branch, more a ... an acknowledgment. For things best left unsaid.

She had slunk away, still conflicted. _Besides, the hall DID need a renovation in time for the arts fair the teacher so dearly wanted to hold. No reason Henry should suffer because school funds didn't stretch that far._

She should have known her scribbled note attached to the cheque requesting anonymity would be ignored. There was yet to be a secret little Snow White couldn't spill, her brain mocked.

But for once she couldn't muster enough anger to truly care. That in itself gave her a surprise.

She exhaled heavily. It was just one more change she was going through. Maybe, as she had said to Gold, it was for the best. The time for ancient enemies locked in escalating, endless feuds was drawing to a close.

What was the point of it all anymore, really? The day she had virtually resigned herself to Kathryn reuniting with her love, and had even found herself encouraging it (or at least not actively getting in the way), was the day she knew the old Regina was gone for good.

_Unrepentantly soft_.

"You don't want to talk about your peace overture to Miss Blanchard?"

"I do not." Regina crossed her arms. She wondered briefly if everyone knew they'd been at war. She thought she'd been more subtle than that.

"So then," Archie said, "Let's get back to Emma."

Regina firmed her jaw. "I don't love her," she stated flatly. She watched a cyclist gingerly make his way slowly up the wet road, all elbows and knees.

"OK." Archie eyed her serenely.

"But I don't hate her either," Regina added. She laughed in a low mirthless tone. "Actually I never have been able to - although I have wanted to very much. And yes, I do want her to come back. Storybrooke is not the same without her. It is quite dull without her unique brand of chaos." Regina smiled at the more pleasant memories of the chaos. "Everyone misses her."

"Including you." Hopper watched her closely. Daring her to deny it.

Regina swallowed. "Yes," she finally admitted into the window._ So odd to say that out loud_. She continued the thought as her eyes automatically searched the streets below. Always looking for yellow.

"Especially me."


	43. Chapter 43

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By Red Charcoal**

**CHAPTER 43: THE BRAVE ONE**

"What changed is that I missed you," Regina answered the blonde, eyes fixed on the road. "More than I ever thought possible."

"Gee thanks," Emma retorted, unimpressed.

Regina huffed out a breath. "I didn't mean I was shocked that I'd missed you. I mean I missed you an absurd amount. Especially absurd given how we left things."

"That was _my_ point, Regina."

Emma folded her arms and let her eyes slip close. She was getting tired and this drive and all the endless processing and brushes with brutes were taking it out of her.

She dimly heard Regina's reply. "Have you never taken something for granted only to realise it only when it's not yours anymore?"

This was spoken so softly and heartfelt that Emma cracked an eyelid.

"You felt like I was 'yours' before?" she asked curiously.

There was silence for a beat.

"Weren't you?" the brunette's raw tones asked.

"Only in the most unhealthiest of senses," Emma said with a grimace. "Is THAT what you missed? Me as your pet? Being at your beck and call to tuck you in any hour of the day or night?" The bitterness tinged her words and she slid her eyes shut again. Annoyed to be reliving that particular moment in time.

"It was more than that and you know it," Regina replied testily. She gentled her tone. "We had a connection. It was ... it felt deep. To me. Too deep at times. And when it was gone ..." She faded out.

Emma waited, eyes still clenched shut, but listening closely.

"First I denied the connection ever existed," the mayor continued. "Like if I just pretended I could convince myself it wasn't real. Or it meant nothing. Then I mourned not having it. And finally I admitted I wanted it back. I wanted you back.

"And not just me. Everyone wanted you back. Especially Henry. He has been missing you enormously."

"Don't bring Henry into this," Emma muttered in irritation. "That's such a cop-out." She slipped her eyes open again, suddenly incredibly curious to have one particular question answered. "So, tell me: When did you know you felt more for me than as a mere bed warmer and nightmare wrangler?"

Regina's responding smirk felt bright enough to light up the car. A hint of devilishness danced across her face. Her voice dropped to throaty - a tone that never failed to skitter all the way down Emma's spine.

"Well, my dear, that was probably the first time some unfortunate soul decided to ask me out and I had to refrain from throwing him across Granny's," she said, teeth gleaming. "His chief selling point, apparently, was his view that I was one of the few women in Storybrooke 'in his league'. Quite possibly the most appallingly worded proposition I have ever heard. And he just irritated me even deigning to ask."

Emma's eyes narrowed. "Who was it?" she growled.

"Oh so now you're wide awake?"

"_Regina_..."

"Is it relevant? I did say no to him, after all. I even 'accidentally' dropped my coffee into his lap in case he mistook my response as a 'maybe'."

"Who. Was. It?"

"Jealous, dear?"

Emma's jaw worked and she shot the mayor her best pissed-off look.

"Well?" Regina asked sweetly, teasing. "Admit it," she husked, "Then I'll name names."

"Yes." Emma grumbled. "I just don't like the idea of you dating someone else."

"Even though you dated multiple people in my absence? How do you suppose that makes me feel?" Regina's eyebrow lifted.

Emma scowled. "That was just empty sex. Not exactly 'dating'. The lawyer excluded. And as we have already established - repeatedly - she didn't get past the starters."

Regina eyed her for a moment then offered up the name.

"Albert Spencer. The District Attorney." She said his name clinically as though listing a particularly dull business associate. Which he probably was.

Emma shuddered on hearing it. There was something so cold about that man. He turned her blood to ice. And yet... The blonde considered his piercing eyes and intelligent features. He had an angular handsomeness that some women found appealing. She wondered if Regina was one of them.

"Not your type then?" she asked innocently.

"Fishing, are we?" Regina gave an amused smile at Emma's darkening expression. "But no, dear, he certainly is not."

She took pity on Emma's moody face and added: "If you must know, he was not nearly blonde enough. And his fashion sense is simply too good, leaning far from primary colors and tacky pleatherwear."

"Hey!"

"Yes, dear?"

"I, um... Did you just insult me?"

Regina chuckled.

Emma gave a small answering smile as she took in the mirth dancing across Regina's face. She did love seeing that particular expression. She felt her traitorous heart leap excitedly and groaned inwardly.

"I suppose it makes me a monster hypocrite but I am glad you didn't date that weasel," she finally conceded.

Regina's face twisted into wry. "It was not much of a choice. Truthfully, you were all I could think of and I realised just how much that was true the moment he made his offer. Everyone else suddenly seemed so inferior. Like faded facsimiles beside an intoxicating masterpiece."

Her eyes flicked to Emma's and the pair stared at each other for a beat. Emma's breath caught. No one had ever called her a masterpiece before. No one had ever likened her to anything near that poetic. She used to feel lucky if they just said her name in a good way. The words were heady. And deliberately designed to flatter. She paused and frowned, remembering Mandy's warnings about the smooth charms of one Mayor Regina Mills.

It would be too easy to get lost in the depths of brown.

She looked away for a moment and forced herself to focus. "So in answer to my question, what changed is that you finally realised you missed me," Emma summarised flatly. "Like some whipped puppy you tossed by the side of the road, suddenly you remembered you did quite enjoy its company after all? Even if it was a bit mangy? But it had enough charm to miss once it was no longer there, thumping its tail for you."

Regina's head snapped, an appalled expression flashing across her face. She pursed her lips, and waited a moment, clearly wrestling with her response. Then she swallowed.

"If you were the whipped puppy, dear, then I was the unwanted doberman left out in the rain beside you," she said harshly. "There was enough pain to go around, Emma. I admit I ran away from mine instead of facing it with you. I am deeply sorry about that. It was not the brave thing to do. But of us both, you were always the brave one."

Emma exhaled. "OK," she said.

"OK?" Regina asked, confused.

"I accept your explanation. Don't agree with your actions, but I get it. Although, for the record, you're more a chocolate labrador than doberman."

She closed her eyes again. She was too tired to argue, anyway. It had been a long day and this was ground they'd probably never cease picking over like two-day old salad. It didn't actually achieve much. She hunkered down lower in the seat.

"Need a nap. Wake me when we get to the border."

* * *

"Emma? Wake up. We're here."

"Mmm?" Emma's eyes flickered open. Recognition suddenly flooded her senses, battering at her from all sides like a tornado.

They were in Storybrooke. If it was possible to drown in the familiar, then Emma was going down for the count in heaving lungfuls of memories. Her eyes greedily fed on the sight of the clock tower, Granny's, the hardware store, the bait and tackle shop. She flicked her eyes from building to building and felt her heart lurch in anticipation, delight, then twist into anxiety. She felt Regina watching her.

"How does it feel?" Regina asked quietly. "Is it how you remembered?"

"Yeah," she said, a finger lifting unconsciously to the glass passenger window and running down it slowly. "Exactly. Like time stood still."

Regina gave a soft snort.

"What?" Emma asked.

"Nothing dear, you just reminded me of something."

Emma's eyes floated back to the town's clock. "_Shit!_ Regina! Is that the time? Why are you going this way? We're gonna be late."

"I need to stop by my house for a change of clothes. We cannot possibly attend a wedding in this ... attire."

Emma's eyes flicked to the mayor's borrowed trackpants and tanktop. Her hair was still a mess and face worse for wear. The blonde knew she didn't look much better herself. But still.

"No." She told the mayor.

"No?"

"We have to be there for the vows at least. Can't we just, I dunno, sneak in at the back, see them say 'I do', then run over to your place and change and come back for the reception?"

"I will not attend a town gathering in this ridiculous outfit!" Regina's voice was steely. "_Absolutely not._"

"Then stop the fucking car because I will walk there if I have to."

"Emma..."

"No! I want to hear their vows! I didn't come all this way to have everyone else say 'Hey where were you? You missed a great ceremony'. Come ON!"

"Emma," Regina tried again. "Please. I will look _ridiculous_."

"And so will I. Right beside you. You said I was the brave one. So listen to me - our friends would rather we were there looking like we crawled backwards through a hedge, than looking like freaking goddesses half an hour too late. Come on, be brave with me. Stand with me this time. Please? And if we're lucky no one will even notice. We'll be right by the doors so we can do a runner."

Regina bit her lip and frowned darkly. Deciding.

Emma held her breath.

"They'll _laugh_ at me," Regina admitted in the faintest, doubt-filled voice, but Emma could hear the question mark this time. Resolve weakening.

"I doubt that," Emma said firmly. "You are Regina 'Screw You All' Mills. They wouldn't dare! But if anyone does, they'll have me to answer to," she threatened with a growl. She paused and continued more quietly. "Regina, your sense of dignity is just an illusion, you know. It's all a silly mask. It's not more important than being there for our friends. _That's_ what matters."

The sigh was long and heavy and Emma had to hide her delighted grin as she felt the surge from the gas pedal as they drove straight past Regina's mansion and onwards to the wedding venue.

Emma arched her neck as they passed the white building - taking in the balcony and French doors outside Regina's bedroom that she knew so well. Intimately, in fact, after so many nights. So many memories.

Nothing had changed, she mused. Even the air smelled the same. Old world, rustic, country. Something ancient.

She glanced back to Regina's face which was set with a determined but faintly appalled look. Her knuckles were white on the wheel.

Nothing had changed, Emma thought again as she eyed the other woman. And yet everything had.

She smiled in wonder.

"Hey," she said as she bumped the woman's upper arm with her elbow. "Proud of you," she said with a wide grin. "And thank you."

The brunette stared determinedly through the windshield as though she hadn't heard. But Emma could see the faintest of tugs at the edges of her mouth.

She could almost hear a grumbled 'Yeah, yeah' in Regina's drawl inside her head.

She leaned back contentedly, beyond pleased.

_Almost there._


	44. Chapter 44

**THE STAIRCASE**

**By Red Charcoal**

**Author's note: **So I am borrowing Scribes' head canon in this, for Granny's first name and second job. Also - thanks to everyone on Tumblr who did my Staircase mini survey. It was much appreciated. I found your responses fascinating and unexpected.

**.**

**CHAPTER 44 - THE FOREVER PART**

They pulled up to a hall at the rear of Matt's property. The building was small, solid, built from wooden slats and with large, heavy double doors at the rear. It had a homey care-worn look to it that suggested the stables' owner had built it himself - and for all Regina knew, he probably had.

There were cars parked everywhere, a haphazard colorful assortment, testament to boxy 80s designs. Running her eye over them, Regina realised the happy couple had gathered a sizable crowd for their ceremony. All of whom were already inside. And here she was, looking like...

She ground her teeth and wondered at what indulgent idiocy had made her agree to Emma's request they attend the service looking like barnyard animals. She supposed it fit though, she mused, as she brought her car to an abrupt stop. They were about to enter a converted barn, after all.

She glanced at the blonde who now seemed suspiciously quiet, an odd expression fixed on her features.

"You doing OK?'' Regina drawled. "You don't look too thrilled to be here."

The mayor unclicked her seat belt and turned back to eye the other woman more closely.

"I, yeah, just a little nervous," Emma said quietly. "I haven't seen these guys in ages," she added and waved her hands towards the hall. "It'll be... overwhelming I guess. And then, you know, seeing Henry, too."

Regina nodded and slipped off her sunglasses, tucking them into a pouch then sliding it into a storage slot between the two seats. She glanced up and smiled.

"Well, as you pointed out to me not too long ago, they're all here for Matt and Archie - not us. Their attention will be suitably diverted for quite some time. So we'll just slip in and..." She faded out as she saw Emma swallow anxiously, fingers shaking slightly as she took off her own seat belt.

_The woman really did seem unsettled._ Regina studied her, curious.

"Really starting to wish we'd stopped now," the blonde explained with a small, nervous smile, eyes darting to Regina's then back out the car window. "Sorry I was being a pain before. I just thought - come on, now's not the time to stop. We're so close. We've come all this way. But now..." She pointed to the barn doors, festooned with crepe paper twists and balloons.

_Definitely Miss Blanchard's absurdly festive work_, the mayor noted with a derisive lip curl before she could stop herself.

"Well, now we're actually here," Emma continued, "I'm kinda less sure we'll be able to pull off the commando secret sneak-in." The words died in her throat and she looked down sheepishly before finally admitting: "And I don't want to be gawked at either. Hate being the center of attention."

She gripped her hands tightly and twisted them in her lap.

Regina's mouth twitched. She swallowed back the smart-ass retort itching to be expressed because she had only made this exact argument 10 minutes earlier.

"Well, dear, I am all for driving us back to my place, and getting freshened up before our big entrance." She reached for her seat belt again.

Emma stopped her, placing a hand on Regina's wrist. The fingers were cold. "No. Come on. I think I just have pre-wedding jitters. And it's not even my wedding." She grinned, faintly embarrassed. Then opened the door purposefully and stood.

Regina watched her for a beat and followed suit. _One in, all in_, she supposed.

For a moment they both stood there, leaning against opposite sides of the Mercedes, saying nothing, staring ahead at the hall, straining to work out what was going on inside.

Regina could swear she could hear some form of music which seemed absurdly out of place. It was a tune she'd heard on Eugenia Lucas's jukebox before but never high on rotation. Then she identified it. She arched a disbelieving eyebrow. Would Grigor the Impaler really have a Willie Nelson tune blaring at his wedding?

"We should have invited your country-singing lawyer friend," Regina announced with a smirk which widened as she saw incredulity cross Emma's face, as she, too, identified the song. "She'd have fitted right in."

Without waiting for an answer, and ignoring the indignant snort to her right, the mayor strode forward and put her hands confidently on the doors' double handles. She paused for effect, looked back and smiled at the blonde, white teeth catching the light of the late afternoon sun.

"Coming, dear?"

* * *

_It was a nightmare_, Regina thought with a grimace, as the doors creaked open in a squeal. She had raised a toddler through the terrible twos who never managed to get his lung capacity to this level of ear-damaging shrieking, even during a full-on tantrum. But these doors were determined to loudly announce their arrival.

Beside her Emma had paled significantly and appeared ready to bolt so Regina slipped a steadying arm around her waist and gave her gentle push, propelling her forward. _Just in case._

There was a faint glow all around, and she realised the room had been beautifully lit in every available space by a raft of hand-crafted convent candles. The faint smells, of vanilla and spices, were intoxicating. Her eyes took a moment to adjust. _Always On My Mind_ came to an abrupt halt as someone hit pause on the sound system and every eye in the hall, most of Storybrooke from the looks of things - all seated and waiting - swung around to inspect the new arrivals.

She heard a low "oh shit" from the woman beside her.

_She knew the feeling_. Regina had never felt more self-conscious in her life. She ran a hand raggedly through her hair, well aware it was not at its usual spectacular best and yet again cursed herself for choosing this moment to prove to Emma Swan that she was capable of profound change.

She flicked her hand down again, intent on pile-driving it into the pocket of the absurd grey tracksuit pants she was stuck in, irritated that everyone was still gaping at them.

The violent hand movement had an unintended consequence. Three dislodged M&Ms flew abruptly out of the depths of her hair and shot down the wooden aisle towards the front of the hall. All eyes in the room tracked them, jaws dropping open in astonishment. Then, as though at a tennis match, the eyes shifted back to the brunette, perhaps to check whether candy smuggling in mayoral 'dos wasn't her latest intentional thing. At her appalled expression, the eyes shifted placidly back to safer territories - following the path of the bouncing sweets once more.

There was a lone snicker, unmistakeably Ruby's. Regina gritted her teeth. Then a high, squashed laugh followed by a shushing sound. Henry and Miss Blanchard. _Naturally_.

Regina, cheeks beginning to flame, swung her eyes accusingly back to her inadvertent M&M supplier, who mouthed an appalled 'sorry' at her then looked down at her boots.

In the half light she took in the blonde's appearance. Dirt, a few smears of blood that had somehow escaped clean-up, and a spreading, now purpling bruise on the side of her face - accentuated by the eerie lighting and atmospheric shadows in the room.

She glanced down at herself and realised they both must look to the town like the 'other guy' in a bar fight.

She sighed. Her dignity was now officially a distant memory.

The M&Ms finally came to a colorful, spectacular halt, bounding up the polished black shoes of two immaculately suited men standing in front of the room.

Matt blinked in confusion then scratched his ear. Archie smiled widely, eyes seeking out hers across the hall.

"You made it! Excellent!" he declared cheerfully to the other end of the room. And he waved in welcome. Like a crazed six-year-old.

This time Regina shrank back, and Emma gave her a gentle prod. "If you run, I get to go too," she murmured in the brunette's ear.

"Tempting," Regina said through clenched teeth. "But I think that would be a little obvious right now."

Suddenly Mary Margaret leapt to her feet and ran down the aisle, shooting an apologetic look at the two grooms, hissing "just one sec" a them, before bundling Emma into a hug and hauling her back up to the front of the room. She was whispering so loudly about how much she'd missed her and saying she'd saved her a seat that it was like a theatrical pantomime for the entire room. All that was missing was the popcorn.

Henry was virtually twitching with impatience, and he too leapt up and, less quietly, cried out "EMMA!'' before burying himself in her waist and hauling her to a vacant seat with a small 'reserved' card on it.

Regina froze. _Well that was a Kodak moment she was clearly not part of._ An old resentment slid into her synapses, coiling around like a snake. She recognised it for what it was and tried to think of ways to quieten it. Eventually she settled for ignoring its seductive, dark tendrils and licked her lips anxiously and wondered where she should sit.

There were no spare seats she could see._ Just her luck the happy couple was hugely popular._

Her cheeks felt red, burning hot, with embarrassment, rejection. She wondered what had possessed her to come, and endure any of this and...

"Regina!''

Her downward spiral was halted momentarily when she realised Emma had shot back out of her seat and was waving at her. She stared at her numbly for a beat, wondering what on earth she was doing. For a woman who didn't like being the center of attention, she was creating quite the spectacle. A beautiful spectacle, sure - albeit one who looked like she had recently been holidaying in Hell and had the battle scars to prove it.

She waited for Henry or Mary Margaret to inevitably pull her back into her chair and claim her for themselves. She couldn't blame them, she tried to tell herself. But it was excruciating. Time slowed down. All of Storybrooke watched on, fascinated. A low hub-bub was now burbling throughout the room.

Then Emma was moving towards her, breaking her trance, appearing suddenly in front of her. The blonde's hands were wrapping around the brunette's and pulling her back to the front row to the rest of her family.

And she was smiling. At her. Like she understood. All of it. The black thoughts that sometimes crept up on her, no matter how unbroken she was these days. _She knew._

Emma lead them to a seat beside Henry.

"Did you really think I was going to ditch you when I got here?" she whispered in her ear. "I am not that lousy a date, you know."

"That remains to be seen," Regina responded with a small humph as she sat. There was no malice in it though, and Emma snickered.

Eugenia Lucas interrupted them with a voice loud enough that no amplification was needed.

It was only then Regina even realised she had been at the front of the room this whole time, waiting to marry the two men in her capacity as a civil celebrant. She frowned. She knew she had never built that particular career sideline into the woman's curse bio. So when did this happen?

"Mary Margaret tells me she did an online course last year," Emma said nodding towards her, reading her mind. "Said she sensed a 'shift in the Storybrooke air', whatever the hell that means."

_Ah._ Regina nodded, not taking her eyes off the buxom woman who was now addressing the room.

"Archie and Matt would like me to thank the Mayor for so ably fetching our sheriff for us so they could both share this event, too," she began. "And we all know how, ahem, eventful their journey has been."

The crowd erupted into laughter.

Emma and Regina shared puzzled looks. The brunette stiffened and looked around the room. People were waggling their phones at her. _What_?

"Even Storybrooke gets YouTube, Madame Mayor," Eugenia continued with a small chuckle and held up her own cell phone with a knowing shake. "And the sheriff's secretary was kind enough to email Miss Blanchard and explain that you were both on your way, but would likely face a small delay. We have been cooling our jets with the ageless perfection that is Mr Willie Nelson, awaiting for your arrival. But do tell the wonderful Mandy later we found her explanatory email attachment _most_ illuminating."

"NICE UPPERCUT, SHERIFF!'' someone bellowed from the back. Emma gaped, swiveling to see who it was. She turned back, lost.

"NAILED HIM IN THE NUTS!" came another cry, and this time they both recognized the voice as Leroy's. Emma rolled her eyes. Regina groaned inwardly, her body tensing.

The crowd roared with laughter once more, and Regina felt Henry shaking with mirth next to her and gave him her best "et tu" glare. It only made her unrepentant son laugh harder.

Matt and Archie both looked to be trying hard to suppress their own amusement. After a few minutes, Eugenia put up both her hands.

"OK you lot, settle down. Right, now that everyone is here, without further ado, we have a marriage to perform."

Her voice faded out into a distant drone as Regina turned hesitantly to look at Emma.

"OK, so how are you doing now?" she whispered mischievously.

"I'm gonna kill her," Emma hissed. "I can't believe Mandy would do that. Thought it was _hilarious_ no doubt. And cracking my email to get Mary Margaret's address? She is so going to die."

"Really? But Miss Somerville seemed like such a lovely secretary."

"Well you only knew her before I killed her." Emma crossed her arms and glared.

"Relax dear," Regina said softly. "And they're right - you do have a magnificent uppercut."

She watched, pleased, as a perfect smile spread across Emma's face.

"I s'pose I can always kill her later," she grumbled.

She suddenly paused and paled. "Oh god. Does that video show me shouting ... um... that thing that I said?"

Regina cocked her head. "That thing you said? About me? And lo..." she queried.

Emma raised her hand sharply. "Shit, don't repeat it."

Regina frowned. _God forbid._

"No Miss Swan," she intoned, hiding her hurt. "Don't worry. You shared that with only me. And Mr Bear. And possibly a random family of four. But not the YouTube viewing public."

Emma exhaled. "Thank God. And it was private, Regina. OK? It's not that I am ... um... ashamed or whatever you're thinking, but I am not ready to think about that yet, let alone discuss it." She paused and groaned softly. "I am so going to kill that woman."

"Yes, dear, you're going to kill her," Regina agreed in amusement, hiding her relief. "Now focus - here's that part of the ceremony you made such a fuss about wanting to see."

They both fell silent and watched as the rings came out and the two men began to repeat shaky vows. Even Matt had lost his customary confidence and trembled slightly.

Emma breathed out softly. "Yeah," she whispered after a moment. "This is the best bit."

Regina glanced at her, intrigued.

Emma caught her eye and shrugged. She said quietly: "It's the bit where anything seems possible. Like the dream becomes real. It's actually beautiful, the forever part. No matter what else happens, it's like time stops here for them. It's all the happy endings come true."

She looked suddenly embarrassed and turned away again. She mumbled: "I know it's sappy. I just used to think a lot about finding happiness when I was in some of the unhappiest places on earth as a kid."

Regina thought about that with an aching jab of guilt. She had also never realised Emma was such a romantic. She contemplated an acerbic comment to inject some levity into the mood, but when she saw the rapt expression on the other woman's face, and a slight moistening in her eye, gruffly smeared away by a fist, she snapped her mouth shut again tightly.

Her eyes slid back to Matt and Archie, faces shining with love as they realised their happy endings. Emma's words floated back to her.

_Anything seems possible. _

Regina's mouth twisted at the edges, her heart thudding hopefully.

_Indeed_.


	45. Chapter 45

**CHAPTER 45: THE HUNGER GAMES**

Emma stood in the wedding hall's small rustic bathroom with its rough-hewn timber finishes and bare bulb. She studied her reflection in the rust-stained mirror.

Regina had headed back to her place to "freshen up", promising to be back soon. Emma had instead opted to grab her bag from the Merc and change here. It gave her more time with Henry and the others who had been talking excitedly to her non-stop since she'd arrived. It felt ... nice.

_Henry_. She sighed. He wanted her to stay an extra week for his birthday. She'd almost laughed at how he'd declared "it's just a week" and pouted like a pro. It had been the same line he'd used when she'd first arrived in Storybrooke.

She listened to his emotive pleas that he "only turned 12 once" and how exciting it would be to share the big day with her. And then Mary Margaret tag-teamed him and began hinting she was close to setting a date for marrying David and wondered whether Emma could maybe stay around a little while longer…

Kathryn, flashing a new engagement ring and a dreamy smile, had tried the same line on her a little later. Emma had gazed at her eternally hopeful friends, wondering whether to be indignant or flattered at their co-ordinated delaying tactics.

In the end she had flatly told them all that she wasn't staying and suggested Henry webcam her in on his birthday. She had then stood, grabbed her bag and stalked off to the bathroom so she wouldn't have to see the crushed looks.

She just couldn't stay, she told herself again.

It was hard enough that Henry's huge eyes had followed her, his hand shooting out to squeeze her arm in a silent appeal that she gently shrugged off. She knew how this shit worked. Like a thread unravelling. If she said yes to one, they'd all pull her in. Swallow her whole. And she wasn't ready for that. She finally had a life outside this town. A life that didn't shatter all her emotional reserves on a daily basis. A life where she felt in control and strong.

Not like here at all.

As if on cue, her mind summoned images of a brunette. Regina Mills gazing at her in wonder when she had attacked Grylls, hauling the bastard off her. Regina melting into her body when they danced. And the mayor blinking up at her in naked relief when Emma had dragged her back to a seat just an hour before.

Her heart did its usual tell-tale triple flip with a half pike. She swallowed back her annoyance.

_Screw this._ She had a life without these draining emotional eddies. A life which wasn't spent trying to pick apart how much she could trust someone who had changed so drastically that she no longer knew or recognised her. The same someone who, paradoxically, she still loved in spite of everything. And who might also…

Her heart picked up the thudding pace.

Fuck it, Emma groaned. She had a good life in Boston, she told herself again. Interesting and independent – mercifully bereft of … feelings. It would be a _relief_ when she got back to it.

_Lonely, too_, her brain supplied traitorously, with a snicker.

She almost rolled her eyes at her own reflection. _Come on, she could do lonely. Had done it for a lifetime. At least lonely was safe and didn't lead to that emotional chaos shit._ She swallowed again. She could live without that other shit. _Right?_

Her brain blew her a raspberry.

Emma sighed, pushing her indecision aside for now, and gave herself one final look. She had brushed her hair until it shone, covered her bruises with make-up and now wore a red sheath that was so sexy that the swooning, gushy shop assistant selling it to her looked as if he was going to buy it for her if she didn't.

She smoothed down the material and breathed in, wondering if Regina was back yet, and what she'd be wearing. Then she cursed herself for even caring. _Was her brain stuck in a loop over that woman? Christ._ She dumped her clothes and boots into her luggage and zipped it up. Then stood and stared at her own green eyes watching her. _She could do this. She just had to keep it together for a few more hours…_

"Not bad, Miss Swan," came an approving, faintly mocking voice from behind her. "You do scrub up well."

Emma would know that smug voice anywhere. She took in a deep breath and turned. Regina was leaning oh-so-elegantly against the door frame and looked like she had been observing her for some time. A tiny smile danced at the edges of burgundy lips. Dark brown eyes raked her body, assessing her frankly.

_Oh hell. Pure sex on a stick._ Emma's brain fizzled, flailed for a moment and promptly died. Whatever smart-ass crack she was about to make evaporated as her eyes feasted on the mayor's outfit.

A figure-hugging midnight black dress with a plunging V-neck, and a teasing slit up one side. The hem was just low enough to be legal without looking cheap, although the length of leg on display made the blonde's throat go dry. The material clung tightly to that intoxicating perky ass in a way that Emma felt sure would be her undoing.

Her heels were stunning, patent black, with glittery edging, arching high, and giving her calves a most arresting curve.

Her hair had been fixed back to its flicky flirty usual magnificence, and make-up covered any minor flaws left over from their run-in with the bear.

"I take it you approve," Regina stated, humor wafting through her words like a film of smoke, when Emma seemed content to just gape.

The blonde nodded mutely, her lips parting. She nervously licked them but couldn't tear her eyes away.

"Good, because I want to show these people how beautifully we dance together, dear," the brunette said in a tone dripping with self-assurance. "I want all their provincial jaws on the floor. Especially Miss Lucas, who fancies herself as Storybrooke's queen of the dance floor. Although to be fair her expertise probably revolves around poles," Regina added acerbically, offering a biting flash of white teeth.

She stepped inside Emma's personal space and dropped her voice to a husky purr that sent shivers up the blonde's spine. "It's time we disabused her of that idiotic notion of superiority. And I want her – all of them – gaping in wonder at us as we … _mesh_." She flashed a brilliant smile.

Emma's eyes went wide at the mental picture. Her fingers twitched nervously against her dress, smoothing it over and over again. Regina was watching her with a dangerous expression tinged with something else.

She finally identified it.

_Hunger_.

Emma briefly shut her eyes and croaked: "Why?"

"Because we can, dear," Regina answered smoothly, as if amused at being asked something so obvious. "It will be entertaining to show off our secret skills. I rather like the idea, don't you?"

"But won't people think, uh, you know, we're …" She faded out.

Regina raised an eyebrow. She shifted until her lips were aligned against the shell of the blonde's ear. A wave of heady perfume hit Emma again. _God, that smell._ Her knees almost gave way.

"Dear, I used to dance with the previous sheriff at official events all the time," she husked. "It came with our jobs. No one assumed anything of it. It was simply etiquette."

Emma could feel the warm breath next to her neck and slid her eyes up to the hooded ones observing her closely. "You seriously think the people of Storybrooke expect their female mayor and female former sheriff to dance together because it's _etiquette_? Seriously?"

She took a step back, breaking the seductive spell. Emma's breathing sounded too harsh and loud in the silence that descended, abrasive to her own ears.

"Miss Swan, if you don't want to dance with me, just say so," Regina finally said darkly. "It's not compulsory. It was merely a suggestion."

"I do actually," Emma said. Her eyes fell on the black dress with its addictive lines and curves. She gave a small grin. "It would be a waste of such a beautiful dress not to."

"Ah I see. We can't waste the dress, can we?" Regina drawled. She took Emma by the hand and led her out of the bathroom. Emma squirmed a little at the gesture, well aware her hands were faintly clammy from nerves. She wondered if the other woman had noticed. Regina showed no sign of letting go.

"I am just a little confused," Emma finally said quietly, to break the silence more than anything, as they reached the thrumming main hall. Her eyes flickered across to the couples dancing sedately in the center of the room, ringed by most of Storybrooke's residents who were drinking, talking, and watching the shifting shapes from the half shadows.

"By what, dear?"

The music switched from country to a sensuous Latin beat that Emma could feel vibrating all the way up her body like a powerful rhythmic pulse. She wondered if Regina had planned this – given some signal to the DJ, the town's pharmacist. If she had, the brunette was not letting on.

Emma hesitated for only a moment and took a step closer, slipping into the mayor's arms. The sensation was immediate, sending a thrill arcing through her body like live electricity. She almost stepped back again. Instead she took a steadying breath and leaned in to be heard over the loud music. "I thought you didn't want anyone to guess that we might be a … uh … thing. Then or now."

Regina had begun to sway in time with the beat and unconsciously Emma fell into step, their bodies remembering how to synchronise their movements to perfection. Regina lifted her eyebrow mockingly.

"It's just a dance, dear," she said. Her eyes glittered in the half light of the room's hundreds of candles. It gave her a faintly sinister glow as the shadows fell across her eyes. "Nothing more. It is not like we're engaged in sexual congress on the dance floor. Is it?"

The faintly challenging tone was back and as familiar as Emma's worn old boots. The mayor's head tilted then, illuminated briefly in the flickering light and Emma looked at her uncertainly once more. Regina Mills. Mystery wrapped up in an enigma. She would likely not be peeling back any secrets or motivations from her tonight.

She sighed and glanced around the room to be met with predictably curious stares. There was no doubt they had become the centre of attention.

All eyes were pinned on the arresting couple who once had fought each other like a snake and mongoose, and who now moved like one exotic, flawless creature, swirling and twisting, swirls of blonde bleeding and melding into chocolate brown.

Emma's mind whirred, unsettled. _What the hell were they doing? This had to look exactly what it was: Two women who liked each other a shitload more than had been previously advertised._

"Emma," Regina interrupted her spiralling panic, with a determined whisper. "Stop thinking. Relax. It's just a dance."

The blonde glanced back to brown eyes too near for comfort. Eyes encouraging her silently to just let go. Eyes that were burning with something much more …

It was easy to get lost there.

She nodded.

It was also easy to forget the rest of the world when encircled in Regina's arms, feeling the shifting of her body against hers, smelling the exotic spicy perfume, experiencing the power of muscles drawing her forward and back, twisting sideways and swaying to the rhythms. The same heady, primal thrill she had felt in Boston's ladies club came back and she found herself pressing closer in spite of herself, eradicating any bit of space, pressed against her breasts, belly and hips, lured in by the sheer sensual charisma the other woman exuded like a musk.

Her body felt it was where it belonged - even as she knew it was one of the most dangerous places on earth for her to be. Regina's searching eyes swallowed hers once more and Emma was swept away, lost in dark, sensuous thoughts. Whose were they, though? Hers or Regina's? She could no longer tell.

Regina offered her an all-too-knowing smile.

Emma felt the arms tighten possessively around her and for a second it was almost suffocating being this close to the woman who had haunted her thoughts for so long. For a moment she considered resisting. Running. Getting the hell out of there and just driving back to her safe, ordered life away from burning eyes and slowly curling, seductive lips.

But her body had other ideas. And in one moment she had had the thought; in the next she felt herself fully let go, muscles turning to molten liquid. She became the music. Became an extension of the woman in her arms.

The song's tempo was increasing and she felt Regina subtly shift gears and become just that little bit more showy, snapping out the sharp turns and precise executions with the expertise of a master bull fighter. Emma matched her move for move. It became a competition - outsmarting, outdancing, besting each other. Who was the better dancer? Emma smiled.

She could see Regina's eyes, glowing with enjoyment, almost laughing, well aware of this unspoken challenge. Their motions became a controlled, fiery, fascinating demonstration of sheer stunning talent.

They had yet to make a single misstep and Emma felt the thrill that comes with excellence. Pride. Confidence. Joy. As the song's crescendo peaked, Emma could not keep the wonder off her face. She had never danced better, or felt better. When they moved as one...

She paused.

It was … perfection.

Emma had never been perfection. Emma was a mess. Unloveable. Unfixable. She was always constantly perplexed that not everyone understood that.

And yet in this moment she was perfection. She glowed. And Regina watched her, transfixed, with a small pleased smile dancing across her shadowed features.

Most of the other dancers had moved away to give them more space and were staring at the unexpectedly riveting masterclass being performed for them. Beyond the pounding Latin beat, the room was unnaturally silent. No one moved a muscle, no one spoke, nor clinked a glass nor coughed. Emma stared in amazement at the frozen scene all around her.

Regina's whispered "focus" snapped her attention back.

They finished in the end with a frenzy of tight, complex manoeuvres and a flourish that looked like they had practised this dance together for years. Emma wondered if that was what the town now thought: That they had spent their days fighting, and their nights dancing.

She stood still at last, mute, as they took in the deafening cheers, whistles and claps. Emma finally provided an awkward bow that only appeared to amuse her dance partner even more greatly.

Emma shook her head, suddenly embarrassed, uncertain where to look. Mary Margaret was staring with affection and longing, her foot tapping; Matt and Archie stood, wrapped in each other's arms, taking it all in with rapt attention. And Ruby looked like she had swallowed a rhinoceros whole, her eyes bulging while her mouth opened and shut in astonishment.

Emma chuckled. "Happy now?" she quietly asked the mayor who looked far too smug to be entirely healthy.

Regina gathered her back into her arms for a slower dance.

"Indeed. I believe we had the desired effect. Now what's so funny?"

"Just wondering what everyone is thinking," Emma said truthfully.

"I am certain it would be something along the lines of supreme jealousy," Regina retorted and could not have looked more delighted at the idea. "Although really, who can blame them? They're only human."

"So modest, Madame Mayor. But this was what you wanted: To show off your fancy moves to your constituents."

"What makes you think that was what I wanted to show off?" She cocked an eyebrow and dipped the blonde. As she held her parallel to the ground, their hearts thumping in sync and a hand emanating warmth through the thin red material criss-crossing Emma's back, Regina looked into her face and whispered: "How do you know I wasn't showing something _else_ off?"

Emma's mouth fell open. The mayor suddenly snapped her back to vertical with a cheeky smirk.

"This was you staking a claim on me? Presumptuous much?" Emma gaped.

Regina lips twitched and she waved a regal hand. "My dear, just shuffling the deck in my favour. I find it helps to win the hand if everyone else knows it's their turn to fold."

"And by everyone you mean Ruby?"

Regina eyed her for a moment. "Certainly. And anyone else who might be under the misapprehension you are presently … available."

Emma shook her head. "You are impossible."

"Thank you, dear."

"It wasn't a compliment."

"Yes it was. I am well aware you are secretly flattered I would go to these lengths."

Emma looked away unable to deny it and unwilling to agree.

More dancers filtered out onto the floor now the music was less frenetic and Emma could see Mary Margaret had convinced David to take the plunge. She winced a few times as the teacher only just got out of the way of his two left feet. The man had the dance-floor prowess of a drunken water buffalo.

Mary Margaret glanced ruefully at her and then at her date's unco-ordinated feet and the blonde stifled a laugh.

Ruby danced up to them, with Henry in her arms. Her son was frowning as though trying to remember his steps. The tip of his tongue was caught between his teeth as he concentrated very hard. He might barely come up to the waitress's chest but he was already vastly better on his feet than David.

"Oh my god, you two, where'd you learn to dance like that!" Ruby demanded as she swirled over to them. "You just blasted us all out of the water. You're all anyone can talk about. There's a betting pool going that Emma used to be a dance teacher. Someone else is claiming you did a dance show off Broadway. But no one can figure out where you got your moves from at all, Madame Mayor. You certainly didn't show that killer shizzle off with Graham."

"Miss Lucas, you have no idea what I am capable of," Regina purred languidly. "There are many skills I possess that I have not yet felt the need to share."

Ruby gave an impressed snort. "Yeah, well OK, after tonight I am never doubting that ever again. What about you, Ems, where'd you learn that?"

"Sadie's Strip Club and Bordello."

Henry stopped staring at his shuffling feet and his head snapped up, eyes wide. "What's a bordello?"

Regina's outraged expression almost made Emma burst out laughing. She stopped herself just in time but her shoulders still shook. Regina glared even harder.

"Ah kid, it's a dancing joint I was undercover at in order to catch a perp," she told her son. She shrugged. "Three or four months it took – and I got a lot of practice in. Not to mention a lot of tips."

Ruby snickered, then caught Regina's unamused expression.

"Come on Henry, let's leave your mothers to show off some more," she said hastily. "Besides I need a break."

The pair disappeared into the crowd.

"Can you try to remember he's only 11 once in a while, dear?" Regina said tartly. "I am trying to protect him from the seedier side of life."

"Well I was just being honest – and I can't help it if _I am_ from the seedier side of life."

Regina glared once more and Emma elbowed her playfully. "You notice our son knows what a strip club is? This isn't all on me."

"I have no doubt you corrupted him on that score at an earlier time."

Emma shrugged. "Just be grateful he didn't ask something really tricky. Like if we're dating. He had that look in his eye."

The blonde hesitated. "I do think Henry suspects," she continued softly. Emma had seen the way he had been studying them as they danced, his mouth forming a perfect O as though some blinding insight had suddenly appeared in his smart little brain.

She felt the other woman's arms tighten reflexively. Then the arms relaxed again. She heard the brunette sigh against her.

"Actually he knew just before I left, I think."

"What! How?" Emma's head reared back in surprise.

"It was just something he said as I was about to pull away to go and find you. He may not have meant it that way. But now I think possibly he did."

"What did he say?"

"That love has the power to fix anything."

Emma exhaled. "If only that were true."

"You disagree? This from the woman who thinks wedding vows are people's happy endings writ large."

Regina eyed Emma closely, an unfathomable expression on her face. The blonde shook her head.

"I think when you have a ton of water under the bridge, the L-word can't fix everything all on its own. It's not a magic pill you know."

The slow song came to an end and they stopped dancing but didn't move, standing in each other's arms.

Regina stayed silent and Emma frowned.

"Regina? You think love is a magic pill?" she asked.

"I never said that."

The mayor stepped away from Emma and her tone was suddenly unfailingly polite. "Well, dear, I promised the grooms I would make a speech."

Emma nodded slowly, a little startled by the shift. "OK. I think I will go and hit the fruit punch Ruby has been raving about. I'll catch you in a bit."

"Thank you for the dance, Miss Swan." Brown eyes assessed her, giving away nothing.

"Back to that title again?"

The mayor's mouth twitched. "It seemed appropriate."

* * *

Ruby rushed over to Emma as she was pouring her third glass full of punch. _God this stuff was good – if a little potent._

"I knew it," the waitress declared conspiratorially, clearly pleased Henry was now elsewhere so she could work her friend for undiluted gossip. "You two SO have the hots for each other. It's like I can smell it. And the way you move together! My god, Emma, you dance like superstars. Just perfection."

"Mmm," Emma muttered agreeably, slurping the drink. She enjoyed the fruity alcoholic burn as it slid down her throat. "But dancing well together is not a metaphor for life, Rubes."

"Pfft," the waitress disagreed, then gave Emma a frown. "Hey slow down on that stuff - I spiked it myself. It's, like, 40% the mayor's cider."

"That explains it," Emma grinned easily, as her head began to buzz pleasantly. "God she is wicked, right down to her booze."

Her eyes warmed as the woman in question approached the head of the room, taking a microphone.

"Shit you've got it bad," Ruby muttered.

Emma ignored her and took another sip of punch. Her brain was becoming a world of mellow. Life suddenly felt pretty damn good.

"Welcome, everyone, to the speeches part of Matt and Archie's wedding," Regina began. "Don't worry, I will keep mine short so everyone can get back to flirting and getting drunk." The room dissolved into laughter and the brunette's eyes drifted to the punch bowl as she said the last words.

_Oh hilarious._ The blonde narrowed her eyes and took a pointed sip from the glass.

Regina smirked.

The mayor's voice was smooth and sultry and Emma found herself helping herself to a fourth glass as she listened to glowing accolades for both men: Matt's selfless dedication to aiding Storybrooke's youth. Archie helping those who had lost their way. Emma was so lulled into punch-induced, Regina-enhanced sensory bliss that she almost missed it.

And then the words the mayor was saying slammed into her consciousness with the force of an earthquake.

Emma thumped her glass onto the table in astonishment. The juice slopped over the edge and she shook her drenched hand in irritation. Punch sprayed everywhere. She cursed.

"Emma?" Ruby asked, startled. "What is it?"

"D-did you hear that?"

Ruby stared at her, puzzled. "What? The mayor thinks Archie does a great job?"

Emma scowled, shaking her head. "Not that bit. Hell," she hissed. "I am in a parallel universe. This is completely nuts. I need some air."

Before Ruby could answer, Emma strode to the door, snatching up her coat as she left. She turned back, just before stepping outside, and saw the mayor pause mid-speech and lock eyes on her. Emma stared back, cataloguing the confusion, dismay and a hint of annoyance. Then Regina turned to the crowd and resumed speaking with her patented politician's smile.

Emma hated that stupid fake smile.

She shut the door firmly and glowered.

* * *

It was cold, and the stars were beginning to come out in the early evening. Emma's nose took in the unmistakeable smells of a working stable – horses, manure, straw. It was about as far removed from her life in Boston as she could imagine. She could hear faint applause and cheers behind her. And then more murmuring. Eventually the music was starting up again. She had found a low bench near a neighboring building and sat, staring unseeingly up at the heavens.

There was nothing about this place even remotely familiar to the way she lived her life. She wondered yet again what on earth she was doing here.

The hall door groaned open in the distance and Emma tensed, wondering who had come looking for her. She heard slow, methodical footsteps.

"Hello Emma," a soft masculine voice said beside her.

_Of course._

She turned and tried a smile.

"Hey," she said. Her eye slid over Dr Hopper's expensive suit. "You look great by the way."

"Thanks. And thanks for coming. Nice night?"

"Yeah. Good, um, service earlier, too. Really pleased for you both."

Emma scuffed at the dirt in her heels and then felt ridiculous. She wasn't wearing her boots so the action looked fairly absurd.

"Something on your mind?" Archie asked kindly. "I saw you rush out of Regina's speech. When she mentioned…"

"Yeah," Emma cut him off. "That was … unexpected." She still felt appalled and shook her head as if it could rattle the words from her mind.

"How did you do it?" she blurted. "Turn Regina into … _Her_."

Archie looked at her fondly. "You know I can't talk about it in detail. Confidentiality and so on. Why don't you ask Regina?"

Emma snorted. "I don't even know _that_ Regina. Who the hell is she now? Because I seriously don't recognise her." She shifted her arms across her chest to ward off the cold. Her mind seemed pleasantly woozy though and she heard the words tumble out before she could stop them.

"Sometimes I wish she'd just go back to who she was."

Silence fell and in the awful, yawning gap, Emma realised the words had fallen from her own lips. Her hand flew to her mouth, faintly appalled.

Archie eyed her curiously. "You would really wish that on her?"

"I … uh… no. Maybe." She frowned darkly. "I dunno." She hugged her ribs tighter.

"That other Regina was in a lot of pain. I know you know that."

"Yeah." Emma bit her lip. "I do. I don't want her to be in pain. But this Regina is … hell … not anything like the one I knew. She's perfect. And sooo open. And honest. Not all dark and dangerous and furious."

"You preferred her dark and dangerous and furious?" Archie asked. "Really?" He seemed genuinely surprised.

Emma laughed mirthlessly. "In a way." She shrugged. "OK, maybe just sometimes. I know you'll never understand. But despite it all, I related to who she was. I have nothing in common with this perfect freaking Stepford Mayor you turned her into."

"I wouldn't say _nothing_," Archie smiled gently, taking his glasses off to wipe them. "You two dance beautifully together. You seem to get on better in general, too. Not fighting suits you."

Emma shrugged. "Maybe. Although life was a lot more interesting before."

Archie laughed. "I don't doubt it. I also suspect you don't believe half of what you're saying tonight. I don't think you want me to remind you of the hell you put each other through. Or especially how hard she punished you and for how long. So may I make a suggestion, Emma?"

She gave a tired nod.

"Just be careful what you wish for. Regina has made no secret of the fact she is trying hard to become better. But speaking generally, anyone with demons and flaws – shades of grey if you will - can never become perfectly white, for want of a better word. Actually no one ever can be. Despite how perfect you seem to think the mayor is now, if you spend any real time with her you'll see Regina actually goes from grey to white and back to grey again pretty regularly.

"So get to know her again, Emma. The Regina you know is not gone, she is actually a lot closer to the surface than you think. For good and for ill."

Emma looked at him in disbelief. "If you say so." She huffed out a breath and finally said what was on her mind. "I just cannot believe she admitted _that_ out loud. To all of Storybrooke! It was so far out of character. Pulling crap like that just reminds me she's not _her_ anymore."

"Emma – everyone already knew before she said it. It's a small town. People have been seeing her enter my office for appointments for more than 18 months now. And she changed dramatically. Everyone noticed that, too. So sharing a small joke about seeing me professionally was not really as shocking as you might think."

"Still in a parallel universe," Emma grumbled. "Come on, Archie, she never showed weakness like that before."

"You think it's weak that she _admitted_ she got help? Or that she got help?"

Emma paused and stared at him. "The first one."

Archie eyed her assessingly.

Emma felt like a bug under glass and rushed to explain. "Look, my Regina would NEVER have said that in public – she'd have sooner ripped out her own tongue first - and we both know it."

"Now she's 'your' Regina? I thought you were leaving in a few day's time?"

"I am."

"Then why do you care how she's changed?"

Emma bit her lip pensively. Good point. She exhaled heavily.

"I guess it doesn't matter. You're right. This is so dumb to give a shit about when I'm not even staying."

Archie rose, his eyes twinkling. "Sure you're not," he grinned. "OK now I have my own gorgeous dance partner to go light up the room with. We're nowhere near your league of course, but Matt can really shake it when he wants to."

Emma shook herself out of her glum mood, remembering why she was here. "Sorry Archie. You didn't need me carrying on like this on your wedding day. Go and have fun."

"It's no bother, Emma. If you're still here next week when we're back from our camping honeymoon I'm happy to chat some more. But you're not coming back inside now?"

"I think I'll chill here for a bit and clear my head."

Archie nodded and rested a hand on her shoulder. "She really isn't as different as you think. The core of who she is remains as you remember her. Her way of dealing with things is what is actually different."

He smiled and headed back inside. Emma watched him go, mulling over that.

_Grey is white is grey._

She wondered what was wrong with her that at this moment she preferred her Regina Mills jet black.

That was seriously messed up. Emma stared pensively out into the darkness.

_Well hell_.


	46. Chapter 46

**Author's note:** This chapter took a fortnight of writing and I thought it would be the death of me. But no, still here! I wrote it before Ch45 actually. Anyway, I hope it explains a lot about Emma's behavior. And yes, my baby is finally (slowly) on the way to healing, too.

.

**CHAPTER 46: CREATURES OF HABIT  
**

The balloons were half deflated when Emma returned to the reception hall; the music now down to a lone karaoke machine – complete with Granny, swaying, eyes shut, belting out _All By Myself, _with the microphone in a death grip. The hundreds of candles were little more than nubs, providing even darker mood lighting.

Emma had slunk into the corner near the punch bowl, her heels crunching on rice and confetti and put her feet up. She helped herself to more of the fruit-tinged booze while she watched the remnants of wedding goers through lidded, bleary eyes.

A few couples she vaguely recognised, long past merry, were clinging to each other, shuffling in tight circles on the dance floor. Ruby was off to one side, helping the caterers pack up their gear, and trying to hit on the group's well-proportioned head of catering. Emma had to admire her persistence because from where she sat, the muscled masterpiece seemed clearly to have a thing for the snappily suited sous chef.

Matt and Archie were long gone – off to their rustic camping honeymoon involving some three-star log cabin. Or so the rumors had it.

Her eyes had scoured everywhere for Regina and Henry the moment she returned, before coming up empty. Both relief and regret flashed through her in equal measure. She downed another drink in one hit, the heavy notes of apple cider scorching her throat pleasantly, and tried not to analyse her shitty reaction too much.

A shadow fell across her and Emma glanced up to find Mary Margaret blotting out her view of a fading party long past its prime – a scene that had been matching her declining mood perfectly.

"If you're looking for Henry, Regina took him home." The woman put her hands on her hips almost challengingly. Emma squinted up at her, wondering if she was requiring a response.

When neither spoke, the teacher sat beside her uninvited and leaned over, prising the punch glass out of Emma's grip. "And I think that's enough, Em."

"Hey!" The blonde protested indignantly as the liquid was spirited away. She frowned.

"Just tell me," the teacher began, "_Were_ you looking for Henry?"

"No. Well not so much."

"That's what I was afraid of. Were you even looking for Regina?"

Emma bit her lip.

"Emma? You know I love you, right?"

"Oh hell. Conversations that start like this never end well."

"I think you need an intervention."

"Aren't you supposed to have more than one person for one of those?" Emma offered a lazy smirk she didn't feel. Her head was starting to lose its bleary haze in favour of just leaning towards shitastic.

"If you hadn't been hiding from everyone for half the night, I am sure we could have had the full set of friends and loved ones. Although if you hadn't been running from us, we wouldn't need an intervention in the first place."

Emma gave her a baleful stare. "OK, let's hear it then." She reached for the punch glass that Mary Margaret had just snatched out of her grasp.

"I mean it Em," the brunette tsked, shifting it further away. "You never used to drink this much before you left Storybrooke. And you are way over your limit tonight."

"Well I am not driving so what does it matter?"

"Have you even been paying attention? You do know your ride went home about two hours ago? Along with Henry, who looked pretty disappointed that you disappeared on him."

"Fuck," Emma ground out and dropped her head to the table.

"I understand you might think you have grounds for dodging Regina, but Henry? Come on."

"I have my reasons. _Good_ reasons."

Emma waved her hand half-heartedly, not bothering to lift her head. Besides, she didn't have to look up to see the disappointment etching the other woman's pinched face.

"And what are these 'good reasons'?"

"Not for public consumption. Look, Mary Margaret, I appreciate that you care…"

"It's not just me. Everyone's starting to get really worried about you. And I have never seen Regina look so upset. You ditched her, you know. And I heard what you said to her when she sat down with us at the wedding service. You promised her you wouldn't do that."

That got Emma's attention and she sat up suddenly. An instant headache from alcohol over-indulgence flared through her temple and she groaned softly. Mary Margaret shook her head and sighed.

"Did she look really upset?" Emma asked anxiously.

"What do you care Emma? You're pretty plastered."

"Yeah well, what can I say? I am a lousy date. A lousy mother. A lousy friend."

Mary Margaret fell silent and watched her former roommate's face begin to crumple.

"So… You want to tell me what's going on with you?"

Emma shook her head. "I can't."

"You do remember that I already know what happened between you – back before you left?"

Emma blinked at her for a moment, as if trying to focus. "Yeah."

"And I was right there when you left town. I knew you didn't want to go. I saw the text - Regina ordered you to leave."

"Yes," Emma mumbled flatly, barely coherent. "She shattered my heart into a million pieces."

"So, what – are you trying to break her heart now? Is that what this is? And everyone else is, like, collateral damage?"

"Hell no!" Emma said angrily. "No!" She slammed her hand on the table and looked at Mary Margaret outraged. The glasses all rattled and the handful of diehard dancers glanced their way.

"Then, Em, sweetie, whatever you're trying to do here, you're making a bit of a mess of it. And hurting everyone else who loves you."

"That sounds about right," Emma said mournfully.

"So just tell me why?"

Emma drew random lines with her finger on the table, a bleak expression crossing her features.

"I have been walking around tonight, thinking really hard about it. And I-I think – I have become the shittiest person."

Emma stared at the table in front of her. She felt sick to her stomach even saying it out loud. She continued, under Mary Margaret's thoughtful gaze.

"When I talked to Archie tonight it made me realise I wanted Regina back to being dark and angry."

"No Emma! But why?"

"Because it's the Regina I know. The one I relate to and get. And the one w-who … needed me."

"Oh." Mary Margaret shook her head. "That's really …"

"Yeah. Fucked up. I know."

"I was going to say sad."

"I fail on every level as a human being. What the hell is wrong with me?"

Emma covered her face in her hands.

"You're afraid. It's human. And before you beat yourself up some more, you're forgetting something really important."

"What?" Emma dropped her hands and slid bloodshot eyes over to Mary Margaret.

"You know it's wrong. You don't accept this at all. You're not telling me it's OK to want the devil you know. You actually feel it's a personal failure for feeling that way."

Emma chewed her lip for a moment and tried to sit up. She ended up with a lopsided slouch.

"Yeah…"

"Yes. So here's the other thing that I know which you may have forgotten in your little misery session tonight: Regina Mills is in love with you."

Emma stared at her in disbelief.

"You must know that, Emma."

The blonde shook her head. "She doesn't do romantic complications like that. She's too efficient to go all-in. She's into less rather than more."

"Have you asked?"

"Not lately. But I did a year and a half ago and we know how well that ended up."

"I think your information on the mayor's feelings might be a little out of date, Emma. I also think after tonight, the least you owe her is an apology and a really honest talk."

Emma eyed her. "I know that." She sighed and shut her eyes briefly. "_I do_. Hence all the Dutch courage." She waved her hand towards the depleted punch bowl.

"So will you do it?"

Emma's hands twisted and she forced them in her lap. "I… I am afraid."

"I know."

"She could crush my heart again." A whisper.

"Yes, she definitely could."

"You're not helping."

"But I don't believe she wants that."

"I couldn't cope if she did it to me again. I have next to nothing left – I'm hanging by a thread as it is. I think that would be it for me." She hung her head in defeat. "You can't blame me for trying for a bit of self preservation."

"Emma, this is the price we pay for love. The risk. But the rewards are incredible, too. Trust me, I know."

"Oh." Emma's hand reached out and gave her friend's a squeeze. "That reminds me - I really am pleased for you and David. I am glad you found happiness. Sorry if I didn't say it earlier. I seriously am a lousy friend."

"You are a … distracted friend. And, by the looks of things, pretty overwhelmed. For what it's worth, I can tell you still love Regina, too."

Emma's eyebrows shot up in surprise and the other woman laughed at her expression.

"Of course if I had any doubts before, watching you rush to her rescue against that scary man at that truck stop – my goodness, Emma! You might have been killed! It was as if you were shouting your love for her from the rooftops."

Emma laughed in spite of herself. _So close to the truth._

"What?"

"Nothing. I just … yeah. OK. Point taken. But I still don't know what to do about the fear. I barely know her anymore so it makes me not trust her. Archie says I have to get to know her and see that she's still her. But it's just so…" She swallowed and looked at the teacher anxiously. "What if she just wants to hurt me? What if…"

"Em, open your eyes. She has put it all out on the line for you, too. You think she dances like that with just anyone? Goodness – it was like a public declaration that you're hers. She never EVER did that with Graham even though I am fairly sure she wasn't going over budget reports with him at Granny's B&B every Thursday..."

"How did you…" Emma blinked in surprise. She knew for a fact Regina thought her off-the-clock antics with Graham were a state secret.

"She also drove all the way to Boston to get you," the teacher continued, ignoring the question. "And that was her third attempt. She was an absolute wreck for attempts one and two, even though she tried very hard not to show it. But Henry filled me in at school every day – and she was suffering. But she did it – all of it – for you."

Emma stared at her friend, trying to reconcile the Regina she knew with the one the teacher had just described. She bit her lip, suddenly embarrassed by her fears.

"Did you know she calls ME the brave one?" Emma muttered, looking down, shame filling her tone.

"Well I did see that YouTube video, so evidence indicates you do have the heart of a lion."

"More like the heart of a pussy." Emma rose and looked at her, faint hope in her eyes. "Mary Margaret, can you drive me to her place?"

"Emma - it's almost midnight!"

"She'll be awake. Trust me – I know her sleeping habits pretty well, and Saturdays she never turns in before midnight. No time like the present."

"Em, you are pretty, um, shaky. Wouldn't this be better in the morning?"

"Come on. Let's go while my resolve is solid and the Dutch courage is kicking in."

The brunette eyed her sideways, debating. "If you're sure…"

Emma swayed slightly as she nodded.

"Well I think maybe we should load you up with a few coffees first. God, you do know how crazy this is, right Emma?"

The blonde grinned. "Crazy _right_. Oh hey, and thanks. You know – for everything."

Mary Margaret shook her head as she headed over to the caterers to ask for a pot of coffee.

"Don't thank me yet."

* * *

Regina threw off her dress moodily, not bothering to toss it in the hamper and stalked to the shower. She turned the heat up to hellishly hot, enjoying the searing sensation which tore at her skin.

She towelled down fifteen minutes later, still grinding her teeth, and pulled on her nightie, annoyed beyond all reason that Emma had broken a promise to her. She had said she would not ditch her at the wedding. She had even laughed at how preposterous such a notion was.

The mayor pursed her lips.

But then Miss Swan had scampered off. Regina stared at her clothing heaped on the floor. Angry enough to just leave it there as a testament to her mood. Then she huffed, bowed down and scooped it up, tossing it in the hamper, unable to resist being a creature of habit.

The look on Emma's face halfway through her speech had been one of shock, Regina recalled. She creased her brow in confusion as her brain played a loop of Emma storming out. _Damn the maddening woman._

She fluffed her pillows and fell back against them with an aggrieved humph, sitting up in bed. She reached for her hand cream and began to work it into her forearms as she thought furiously.

_What on earth had Emma's reaction been all about?_ All Regina had been talking about was Archie. She sighed and snapped off her lamp and slammed the jar of cream on the side table simultaneously.

_So much for not leaving her. _

But then Emma was also a creature of habit.

A rattle sounded loudly in the darkened room and Regina froze. Her brain recognised it immediately – knew it all too intimately in fact - and she twisted to look at her French doors, which were locked. She stared in disbelief.

A dark Emma Swan-shaped shadow was leaning against them, one finger tapping away on the glass like a deranged woodpecker.

In the moonlight she could just make out the other woman was still in her red dress (_How on earth did she climb her wall in that?!_) looking faintly rumpled.

_And was she swaying slightly? _

Regina threw back her comforter and slid out of bed. She reached for her pale blue silk robe and knotted it firmly around herself and then stalked to the doors.

"Yes dear?" she intoned and folded her arms, glaring out through the glass.

"Regina, can I come in? It's freezing out here!"

"Shouldn't you have thought of that before you decided on a midnight crawl up my wall? Uninvited?"

"Yeah, uh, Regina, can't you chew me out INSIDE?"

Regina sighed and unlocked the doors and stepped backwards.

"Oh my god, you scaled my house wall in your heels?" Regina asked in astonishment as she stared at the dusty, scuffed heels Emma was now taking off. "Are you crazy? Don't answer that. Facts speak for themselves."

Emma swayed slightly again and leaned against the bedroom wall for support

"So?" Regina asked as she shut and locked the doors. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I didn't mean to ditch you, Regina. I came to say sorry. I didn't mean to – it's just – fuck, I really am a lousy date."

"Yes you are, Miss Swan. Something upon which we agree."

"It's Emma – for Christ's sake, call me _Emma_."

"When it's earned. So, do share – where did you go?"

"I needed some air."

"And some alchohol, it would seem."

"Punch was really good. You should have tried it. Had your cider in it."

"Well, dear, it seems you had enough for both of us. How many glasses did you have anyway?"

"Four or five?"

"Five!"

"The first time. Then another four when I went back inside after almost everyone was gone. You had left by then."

"I didn't see the point in staying, Miss Swan. You had disappeared and Henry had to be put to bed. He was asking after you by the way. My son seemed greatly concerned you might have simply high-tailed it back to Boston without saying goodbye."

"Are you really mad?"

"Yes," Regina confirmed with a lethal glare.

Perplexingly, Emma suddenly gave a tight smile. "Good."

At Regina's mouth falling open then snapping shut, the blonde added: "Mad Regina I know very well. I get her."

She slumped against the wall, sliding down it until her bottom hit the floor. Then she folded her knees under her chin, pulling her arms around them.

"Can we talk now?" she asked quietly.

Regina stared at her, mystified. _Hadn't they done little else for the past two days?_ "About what?"

"It's cold," Emma said. "Get back into bed. I can talk from down here."

Regina's jaw worked as she eyed the huddled blonde. She sighed, stalked back to the bed and tossed Emma a blue blanket. "Here. I don't want you complaining of frostbite tomorrow."

A wide smile split Emma's face. It lit her up and in spite of herself the brunette was struck yet again by her exquisite, inate beauty.

"What?" Regina asked irritably.

"I recognise the blanket. From when you put it around me, that first time I ever slept over."

Regina frowned. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she grumbled.

"Sure you don't. It was really thoughtful - then and now."

Regina climbed into bed and drew the thick comforter around her, saying nothing. She had no idea Emma remembered her doing that. She had thought it a weakness at the time. To care.

"I spent a lot of the night walking and thinking. That's where I went."

"Quite the feat in your condition, dear."

Emma shrugged. "I guess. I will probably feel it tomorrow. Those stupid heels weren't meant for walking."

The silence fell between them and Regina stared moodily at the shape bundled against her wall.

"Why did you run out on me tonight?" She intended it to come out demanding. Instead it sounded anxious to her own ears.

Emma leaned her head back. "Can you give me a minute on that one? I promise we will come back to it."

Regina paused and considered that.

"All right. How about why are you here?" she asked. "Is it to tell me what you have been telling everyone at the wedding that you're leaving me in two days? Henry is devastated you won't be staying for his party."

"Please don't talk to me about Henry. It's taking everything in my power not to get too close to him again if I have to leave him again in a few days. You have no idea what it's like to look at those pleading eyes and say no to him. It's like freaking torture."

"Welcome to motherhood, Miss Swan," Regina snapped. "Of course no parent or guardian in history has ever had to say 'no' to puppy dog eyes. Now I say again: why are you here?"

"I wanted to say sorry. And I have a really important question I need answered."

More silence fell between them and Regina waited. Then sighed.

"Well? Are you going to ask it or pass out dramatically on my bedroom floor?"

Emma actually laughed. "Yeah I remember _this_ Regina. Archie was right."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. I was going to say 'don't ever change' but that's a loaded statement coming from me right now."

"Are you ever going to get to the point?" Regina complained, failing to follow the seemingly random conversation.

Emma sucked in a deep breath. "I did a lot of thinking tonight, like I said. About anger for one. For a long time I have been very busy being very angry with you for telling me to leave Storybrooke."

"You've hidden it so well."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Don't. Seriously – when you have to give up everyone you know and love just because of someone else's passing whim, then you can be a bitch about this."

"Fine." Regina bit her lip. "But it wasn't… For the record, Miss Swan, it wasn't just some passing whim. And I am … um …" She petered out.

"What?"

"_Sorry_. It was a mistake. One I would never make again if I could do my time over."

Emma looked up at her, probing green eyes seeking the truth. Regina held the gaze.

"OK," Emma said quietly, and rubbed her head, "Thanks for that. I mean it. So that's part of it." She stopped again and swallowed. "Look, I haven't been doing so great at listening – I think anger shorts my brain or something – so even if you tried to tell me this before, I never heard it. But I am listening now, and I really need to know: Why did you order me to leave Storybrooke? What did I do that suddenly made you tell me to go then?"

Emma bit her lip anxiously as she stared at Regina, pain etched on her face.

Regina felt her heart sink. This particular wound still ached. For both of them, it seemed. She groaned inwardly. First Archie, now Emma. Would they ever stop asking this of her?

"You really don't know?"

"Would I ask if I knew?" Emma said in exasperation.

Regina paused a moment, gathering her thoughts.

"You asked me for _more_, Emma."

"And you didn't want to give me more? You know Regina, normal people just say 'eh, no thanks', not 'Get the hell out of my town and never come back'."

"Really?" Regina asked wearily. "More insults?"

"Sorry," Emma muttered. "Reflex. That's a really tender spot for me. Keep going."

"You asked me for more," Regina began again. "And I believe, in hindsight, that part of me really wanted to give you more and it … scared me to the core given the emotional situation I was in at the time. I thought we were better off apart instead of destroying each other together. You yourself pointed out how co-dependent we had become."

Regina braced herself for another round of recriminations. Instead Emma seemed to be digesting her words slowly.

"So you decided, for both our sakes, to split us up, to – what - save us?" Emma asked flatly.

Regina nodded. Then she realised Emma couldn't see that in the darkness. She cleared her throat. "Essentially. And it worked, I suppose. Emotionally we're far better equipped to handle a relationship now, if we want to." Regina glanced over to her, wondering if the other woman agreed.

Shame and hurt crossed the blonde's face. Regina frowned, trying and failing to understand it. "Miss Swan?"

Emma shook her head and hugged her arms around her knees and rested her chin on them.

"What if I hadn't asked for more?" she asked dully. "If I had accepted less? If I had relented that day in your study and let you screw my brains out against the wall. What would have happened to us do you think?"

Regina thought about it for a moment, puzzled as to why she'd bother asking such a pointless question.

"I imagine we would have begun a regular arrangement that involved sneaking around, having plenty of interludes of mindless sex."

"And then what? After the mindless secret sex. Let's say we did that for 18 months."

"I don't understand."

"Would it have ever turned into a real relationship? With mutual respect or something deeper?"

"I doubt it." Regina admitted. "Respect rarely comes from ashes. You were right to say no. We were both so broken and hurting. It could never have ended well. It's not like we are now."

Emma's head dropped into her hands. Even in the darkness Regina could see her fingers were white from pressing viciously into her skull. Emma's head snapped up.

"Can't you see? I am STILL broken, Regina. _You're_ the one who got fixed. Not me. I slapped Band-aids on my weeping wounds and tried to forget them. You got the five-star surgery for yours. I am still the same woman who sat bawling on your doormat, hammering away at your door, begging to be let in. A total, broken screw up. I'm a wreck," she finished in an ashamed whisper.

"You can't believe that!"

"I know it." Green eyes stared at her with certainty.

"You're not a wreck. And you cannot possibly be that same woman who left Storybrooke."

"You're right. I'm much worse. Now I have empty sex as a salve, which I never did before we met. I drink far too much – like I have no 'off' button when I feel really down. And I cry a little inside whenever I think of you. I can't move on, and I can't not. I am still in love with you even though I have been fighting it like a rabid dog for a year and a half. I am trapped."

She rubbed her face in exasperation. "So seeing I am the same broken mess, and you're not – can you _please_ tell me how this thing between us could ever work?"

Regina looked at the tear-filled eyes which silently pleaded for an answer to the question.

She shut her eyes for a moment, trying to block out the hurt face across the room. It had never even entered her mind Emma felt as broken as she had been in Storybrooke. Regina had never stopped to consider that only she had sought out help. Emma's scars still lived and ached just below the surface.

"Tell me _how_?" Emma asked again and Regina's eyes flicked back open. "Sometimes I think I should have just taken the 'less' you offered me, and to hell with self-respect. I would have still been a mess, sure, but I would have had you in my bed and that seems like enough some days.

"And I could have skipped all the extra doses of self-loathing, recriminations, one-night stands and benders. Everyone wins. Right? Might not have been a long-term thing but it would have to be better than this limbo hell I'm in now."

"Emma…"

"It's OK, you know. It's not even your fault, really. Shit, I am the one who lacked the courage. It's pretty funny you calling me the brave one, don't you think? From the crossroads that day at your door, now look at you and look at me. And the worst part is that I realised tonight misery really does love company."

Regina frowned, trying to understand her leap.

"The worst part is I realised I missed who you were back then, just because it was familiar and comforting and I trusted that. Broken Regina was also who you were when you needed me the most. Deep down, I liked being needed by you. And not just because I could atone for that fucked up awful day. But it felt ... really good. I know you don't need me now. That you're all perfect and fixed and shiny and new. And you're going to figure that out sooner or later and that will be that. Why would you … why would anyone … stick around for this?"

She gestured to herself, disgust written over her features. Tears were sliding down her face now and Regina had to force herself to hide her shock at how badly Emma felt about herself. She never had even guessed the depths of self-loathing in the other woman.

She knew those feelings all too well. Her own reasons and experiences, though, were not something she could share.

"Is this why you ran off tonight?" she asked hoarsely.

Emma wiped the tears gruffly with the back of her hand.

"I left because you shared something so personal in your speech that I would never have had the guts to spill. It was like this huge neon billboard shouting that you weren't the woman I knew. It showed me just how far you had come. And how far behind you I am. I don't think I can ever catch up, Regina. I don't. And sooner or later you're going to realise that too, and I am … terrified … if I say yes to what you offer, that I will be even more shattered this time when you throw me away."

Regina felt her heart clench at the guttural, wrenching pain she could hear.

She instantly was out of bed and crouching beside Emma, wrapping her arms around her.

"Emma," Regina said softly. "You think you have me all figured out. That I will see you as beyond repair, grow weary and discard you? You've been making a lot of assumptions about me. The biggest one seems to be who I am now. And I am far from perfect. I am still grumpy and flawed and occasionally condescending and smug, too …" she smiled at Emma's shocked look. "Yes, of course I am aware of that last bit. I might even practice that a bit, although I will deny it if anyone asks.

"I am also aware one of the things I very much appreciate about you is that the real me - with all its many flaws - never intimidates you one bit. You may recall that I tried to run you out of town, and you responded by chainsawing my apple tree.

"Shit, yeah I really am sorry about that…" Emma looked shamefaced.

"And so you should be, dear," Regina said, lips twitching. "But my point is, no one else would have had that audacity – or insane pigheadedness to do that. No one has ever gone toe to toe with me like you do. So who's to say you wouldn't get sick of me first, and break _my_ heart?"

Emma frowned and wiped away a stray tear. "I don't think I could do the changes you did," she finally admitted. "I don't think I have that much strength to rebuild myself from the inside out."

Regina threaded her fingers through the blonde's hair and stroked. "Change can be frightening. But just because I am different than you remember certainly does not make me perfect. I am still a work in progress. And I am still Regina Mills, your very own hard ass, whose beloved tree you had the gall to chainsaw."

Emma offered a watery half smile. "Good to know," she said softly. "Because I have to say, perfection is both insufferable and overrated."

"Yes," Regina allowed, as a flash of Snow White shot through her brain. Her lip curled. "It certainly is."

She paused. "You know, no one has ever called me perfect before, quite the opposite in fact," the brunette mused, half to herself.

"Well … you did rock that dress tonight. Perfection doesn't even begin to describe what it did to your assets."

"That's not hard, Miss Swan, when you have my body." Regina smirked, eyes twinkling.

The blonde slapped her forearm. "God, you are annoying. Which is good, by the way, really good."

They lapsed into a companionable silence, which Regina finally broke with the only question that had been on her mind all day.

"So where does this leave us? Do you want to give us a go or do you want to run some more?"

"Is 'both' an acceptable answer?" Emma asked. She was only half joking.

"It is not," Regina said archly.

"I am still processing that question. I mean how does one deal with the most beautiful, most irritating person on the planet?" Emma suggested with a cheeky grin. "Not to mention the second-best dancer I know."

"You should talk, Miss Swan. You're impossible to deal with. You're such a flight risk we should keep a tracking bracelet on your ankle. And hardly the second-best dancer. Please, dear, my moves reigned supreme and you know it."

"Ha fucking ha."

"And don't start me on your swearing. You are a dreadful example for Henry."

"Yeah, I am truly fucked at not cursing." Emma's eyes danced.

"And your sense of humor is possibly the most juvenile I have ever encountered."

Emma sighed. "I have missed this so much. Even at our lowest there was still _this_ between us."

"What? Silly insults and one-upmanship?"

"Companionship. And deny it all you want but you didn't waste your bad-ass insults on just anyone."

"So why not stay? Have it again. I am sure I can think up some particularly cutting barbs to remind you how much you're wanted."

"Tempting."

"I was actually being serious."

"So was I."

"So you'll stay?"

Emma bit her lip. Finally she rose, slipped on her high heels, and walked unsteadily to the door.

"I think I should go right now," she said. "I'll leave the same way I came in – I am pretty expert at shimmying these days."

Regina watched her open the balcony doors and step out, wondering whether no answer was better than an outright 'no'.

She stood and joined Emma as she crossed the threshold. One foot in, one foot out. How fitting. The blonde paused, turning back, then deliberately stepped right inside her personal space. Regina's breath caught.

"I know I was a lousy date for most of the evening but I don't want you to think I am completely without manners," Emma said with a tiny smile tugging at her lips.

"What?" Regina asked, confused.

Emma suddenly closed the gap, slipped a hand around Regina's neck and drew her to her. She pressed their lips together, kissing gently. Warmth ricocheted around her body as she felt Emma sigh and wrap both arms around her neck, pulling them closer.

In the back of her brain Regina tried to make sense of her hammering emotions. She supposed she should feel more confused, especially given nothing was resolved. Nothing fixed or sorted. She didn't even know whether Emma was staying or going. And yet this felt so right.

All other thoughts were chased from her mind as she felt the blonde deepen the kiss. Her tongue demanded entry and Regina willingly opened her mouth. Sensations danced through her body, her nipples tightened painfully against her silk nightwear, and arousal the likes she had never felt before made her press her thighs tightly together. She stifled a moan.

After a moment they both pulled back, resting foreheads against each other, breathing raggedly.

"I still don't know _how_ this can work," Emma whispered earnestly. "But I am going to give you till Henry's birthday party to explain it to me in detail. Although I have to say, you're off to a _really_ convincing start."

She gave a small, shy smile and blushed faintly.

Regina chuckled to hide her relief. "That would be acceptable, Emma."

"You said my name," the blonde said softly.

"You earned it. Just don't ever ditch me on a date again."

"You have a deal." The blonde stepped away from her, through the doorway, and stared at her for a long moment. "If you promise never to terrify me with your apparent perfection again."

Regina's flash of white teeth and genuine laugh were her reply.

"I make no promises."


	47. Chapter 47

**THE STAIRCASE  
By Red Charcoal**

**CHAPTER 47: THE ENVELOPE**

Emma woke with a tired groan. Her head felt like it was in a vice and her eyeballs were doing the Macarena inside her sockets. She rubbed her temples and wondered what had woken her.

A pounding noise sounded again and she uttered an anguished moan.

_Some asshole clearly didn't know that on the morning after a wedding you do not wake someone up at_ … she paused and looked at the clock on the wall… _10.30am?_

_Shit_.

She sat up – far too quickly – and swore inventively.

She threw her feet on the floor of her room in the B&B and dragged fingers raggedly through blonde tangles as she headed for the door.

_Ugh_.

She froze and waited for the room to stop tilting like a drunken sailor. She swallowed against a rush of nausea and stood gazing at the garish, old-fashioned wallpaper as she regained her balance. For a moment she wished she hadn't turned down Mary Margaret's multiple offers that she reclaim her old bedroom last night. But three was definitely a crowd now David had moved in with the schoolteacher.

The pounding on her door resumed.

Emma, with a growl, demanded "WHAT?" as she swung it wide.

_Oh._

There stood one immaculate Regina Mills. She was outlined by the door frame wearing a grey dress, bearing a perfect smile and… Emma squinted through bleary eyes … a basket of red apples. She blinked in confusion, her mouth dropping open stupidly.

"Nice to see some things never change, dear," Regina said and made a point of dragging her eyes slowly over Emma's choice of sleepwear. It had the effect of a sarcastic rejoinder.

The blonde glanced down at her pale pink panties and white tanktop.

"Oh, right." She couldn't think of anything more intelligent to say. But she decided to try anyway.

"I figured it was Granny knocking," she muttered with a shrug. "Although we both seem to be in a time warp today." She nodded at the basket of apples. "You planning on ordering me out of Storybrooke just like my first week here?"

The mayor offered her a tiny smile. "A small joke, dear. I thought you'd appreciate it. Although nice of you to dress for your part, too." She then wordlessly pushed her way past Emma and headed into the room.

"Well sure, come in," the blonde grumbled for show, closing the door after her. She moved over to a chair by her bed and pulled on some grey yoga pants.

Regina looked vaguely disappointed at the change of attire but made no comment, instead digging through her basket and pulling out from under apples a plastic container with a reddish liquid inside. She held it out to Emma.

"Drink," she ordered with a tone that brooked no dissent.

"I, uh, no thanks," Emma said eyeballing it with distaste. "Had my fill with your cider/punch thingy last night. I think I'm off liquids for the foreseeable future. Especially, ah, whatever the hell that pond scum is."

"This, my dear, is a guaranteed hangover cure, developed by me years ago. It is highly effective, especially against the worst effects of too much apple cider."

Emma's eyes shifted from Regina and back to the plastic container. She took it from her hesitantly and unscrewed the lid. Her nose wrinkled at its noxious smell.

"_Fuck!_ What the hell is in this stuff," she said, recoiling. Then the rest of Regina's sentence registered. "Wait - _you_ tested this out? Cos I can't picture you getting plastered enough to even need to come up with a cure for your cider."

"Let's just say necessity is the mother of invention," Regina suggested with a knowing smile. "I learned very early on where my limits were when it came to my cider. I developed this in the process. Now drink up or sit around moaning about your pounding head for the rest of the day. And I know you have a migraine so don't bother denying it," she added when Emma opened her mouth to argue. "If you don't drink, you will not be of much use to anyone today."

Emma's mouth clanged shut again and she eyed the crimson concoction dubiously. The mayor put her hands on her hips and impatiently thrummed her fingers against her waist.

"So what's planned for today?" Emma stalled as she sniffed again before recoiling in dismay.

"Drink first, answers second."

Emma sighed and then threw the drink down her throat, gagging when it slid past her appalled tastebuds. Her eyes bulged. It was as awful as she feared.

"Gah!" she exclaimed and slammed down the container on her bedside table. "Am I being Punk'd? That stuff is freaking revolting." She bent down to look through her bag, sure she had some peppermints stashed somewhere.

"I have no clue what 'punk'd' is but I assure you in ten minutes you'll be ready to wrestle an ogre."

Emma looked at her dubiously. "You do realise since ogres don't exist we can't prove your theory isn't complete and utter crap."

Regina sighed. "Are you always so difficult after a night of alcohol indulgence?"

Emma suddenly felt ashamed. "Yeah, point taken. I'm a pretty shitty drunk. OK, while we wait for my supposedly miraculous recovery, want to tell me what your grand plans are?"

As she asked, she slid back in bed, tucking knees under her blankets. "Or we could just have a relaxing Sunday sleep-in. That way, with you here, at least the scenery in this retro dive is improved. Have to say wallpaper roses and 1960s furnishings aren't my thing."

"Would you prefer to stay at my home?"

Emma froze and glanced at the mayor who suddenly looked uncomfortable. As though she feared the answer.

"What?"

"Well I have a guest room." Regina bit her lip for a moment and then thinned her lips into a neutral line. "I know Henry would love to see more of you. And … so would I."

Her eyes slid over to the blonde, hope not entirely hidden.

Emma sat forward and hugged her legs, covered in a blanket, thinking.

The silence dragged on and Regina broke it. "Only if you would like, of course. But you have put me on a tight deadline. And it would help us make the most of your time here."

Emma stared at her, trying, with some difficulty, to understand what she was saying as her brain was still swimming.

"Henry's birthday," Regina added. "Your deadline. Remember?"

It all came back in a rush and Emma did indeed remember. She put her hand over her mouth as everything she had said and done last night came back. Ditching the party mid Regina's speech. Ditching Henry. Mary Margaret's half-assed intervention.

"Tell me you haven't changed your mind about staying," Regina whispered hoarsely, watching her expression closely.

"God no. No!" Emma said quickly, as she saw real fear flit across the other woman's face. "I still plan to stay the week. I realised last night that _I_ might be a complete mess, but I have never seen anyone who hates failing as much as _you_ do. I think you might actually be able to find a way. Even if I can't see one – maybe it's just because I haven't called in the big guns until now. And you're the biggest gun I know. You're like a freaking Goliath of that can-do shit. Hell, just look at how far you've come."

Emma's fingers began plucking at the wool on her blankets, trying to stem the returning fears that immediately began to hammer at the base of her skull once more. She was certainly no Regina when it came to self-help. She could use a drink. She licked her lips and frowned at the feeling that had been way too common of late.

But when she looked up at the mayor, the brunette was watching her with an expression that made Emma's breath catch. All thoughts of drowning herself in a Jim Beam or six instantly vanished.

Regina smiled. "Well I have been called determined before," she said with a look that seemed to hide more than it shared. "Never Goliath, though. I have some ideas. But first – are you feeling any better yet?"

Emma thought about that for a moment and realised the pounding had stopped.

"Yeah, actually. Hey - that gunk worked. Do I even want to know what was in the stuff?"

"No, you definitely do not."

"Thought so." Emma patted the side of her bed and looked at Regina.

Regina sat down and cleared her throat.

"You're coming over to my place for lunch," the mayor began. "You should make up for lost time with Henry. And I thought you might do the honors in telling him you have decided to be here for his birthday."

Emma was amazed. "You left that for me?" she asked. "I would have thought you'd want to play the hero for getting me to stay and everything."

Regina regarded her with a faint hint of censure. "This isn't about my ego or yours. This is about Henry. And all he wants right now is you. And whether you know it or not, you need him around you now, too."

A silence fell.

"OK," Emma finally said. "So I'll hang with you and Henry."

Regina nodded, satisfied. "That is for starters. Ruby and Kathryn and some others have 'booked' you in for the afternoon to 'show you what you're missing' I believe they said. I didn't enquire as to the details but I suggested alcohol might be better left off the menu. So apparently something called 'mocktails' is making its Storybrooke debut this afternoon. Miss Blanchard also wishes to cook dinner for you tonight. Doubtlessly you'll have hours of fun."

The blonde eyed her in confusion, trying to detect the sarcasm in the last comment. Weirdly, she could find little. More like wry amusement at the most.

"You are endorsing me going off bonding with Mary Margaret for hours?" she suddenly asked. "You hated her worse than the molten pits of Hell."

Regina gave a small shrug. "Perhaps," she offered vaguely. "But anyone who makes you understand your value to us is a worthy companion."

"My 'awesome' value," Emma mumbled. "_Right_."

"I know you believe that," Regina said quietly. "I'm sorry you doubt your worth so much. So I brought you something."

She reached over to her basket again. She dug down and pulled out some envelopes.

"Open one every night before bed. I may not be able to fix what you feel is wrong in only a week, but Emma the chasm you see between us is not nearly so wide as you think. Appearances can be deceptive."

She rose.

"Be at my place at noon for lunch with Henry. Try to be punctual. I know it is not in your genetic makeup but do make a rare exception for us."

Emma cocked her head in amusement. "Were you saving that barb up?" she drawled.

"I'd hate you to think I no longer cared enough to insult you. Although I admit I am a little out of practice. Just give me time."

She leaned forward over the bed and hesitated. Then she kissed Emma lightly on the lips, lingering. Enough for her intention to be clear, her interest to be registered. Then she pulled away.

Emma smelt Regina's familiar fragrance, and her heart began to thud. _So predictable_ _her foolish heart._ She swallowed and watched the other woman turn to leave.

"Oh and next time," Regina tossed over her shoulder as she curled her fingers sensuously around the brass doorknob, "ascertain who is at the door before showing off your undergarments. Because the idea of you parading around like that for just anyone is _most_ unacceptable to me."

Dancing eyes fixed on Emma's, offering a smouldering look, littered with promises.

And then she was gone.

_Well hell._

* * *

Lunch had been amazing, Emma had to admit, as she leaned back in her chair. Lasagne was on the menu – Regina knew how to win over a girl's stomach, that was for sure.

But it was nothing compared to the company. The moment Emma had said the words out loud, had told her son she was extending her stay, she had been attacked by small boyish blur.

Henry had literally hurled himself at her and hugged her hard.

Emma had slid her gaze cautiously over his head to Regina, worried she might find jealousy in burning brown eyes. Instead she saw amusement at the way their son had latched onto her like a territorial koala.

"Henry, try and remember Emma favours breathing," was the mayor's only comment.

Emma had offered her a wide smile, and watched as he finally detached himself and thanked her over and over.

"Thank your mom, kid," she replied. "She talked sense into me."

He promptly turned, stared at Regina for an assessing moment and then flung his arms around her waist and squeezed tightly.

The surprise on Regina's face told the blonde this was still not a common occurrence despite the obvious thawing of tensions between the two since she'd been gone. She grinned at the sight.

The trio had not talked about much of depth over the mouthfuls of delicious food, but they had shared warmth. Emma couldn't help compare it to the strange breakfasts she'd had in the house the mornings after she'd helped Regina sleep, when she was so tired she could barely sit up straight. Although they had become used to each other's presence, it lacked a sense of …

Emma struggled to find the word. She paused and eyed the young boy happily scooping a forkful of pasta into his mouth, his eyes sparkling. Regina sat back and observed them both, her food barely touched, but the smile nothing at all like the mayor's grim curled lips Emma would often encounter during those breakfasts. Forced out begrudgingly, like a miser counting his change.

This Regina – the smiles were freely dispensed. It was novel, to say the least.

The woman in question lifted an eyebrow, silently asking Emma what she was thinking. The blonde gave her a half shrug and resumed chewing.

_Family._

The place lacked a sense of family before, she decided. And that's what this table, bursting with food and conversation and unspoken genuine feeling, now had. She paused mid-chew and wondered at that.

It was nice, she decided.

_If you liked that sort of thing._

Regina had caught her at the door just before she headed out of the mansion, and leaned into her ear. "You know where the spare key is, dear. The room at the end of the hall has been made up if you cannot bear another night with Eugenia's rose-infused '60s décor. I hope you'll consider it."

The whispering mouth had paused and slipped a few inches, leaving a delicate kiss on Emma's neck that made her shudder.

She had nodded quickly and hastily stepped outside before her baser instincts took over. She stood, breathing deeply, blinking into the light.

* * *

Regina sat up in bed and began her usual nightly regimen, opening her skin-cream jar. She wondered, not for the first time that day, whether Emma would take her up on her offer of a room, or whether she would endure Granny's ye olde decor for the sake of keeping her distance.

She had just finished applying the cream when the answer presented itself, in the form of one Emma Swan leaning confidently against her French doors and tapping shortly on the glass.

Regina placed the jar back on her night stand and hid a smile as she stood and unlocked the doors.

"Miss Swan," she husked, opening them, "I swear I gave you key access to my home. And yet you take to my wall like a guerilla."

She turned without waiting and headed back for her bed. It was cold, and she had little doubt Emma would make herself at home. She always did.

Emma closed and locked the French doors and slid down the wall, facing her bed, a re-run of the previous night's conversation.

"I didn't wanna wake Henry."

Regina eyed her skeptically.

"Really, dear?"

Emma looked down at her hands, turned them into fists, and sighed. "No. It's just … I don't like the route I have to take if I'm using your key."

The words were barely audible and Regina had to strain to hear them. She processed that for a minute. "Your route? What do you mean? It's not far."

"No, it's not. Look can we change the subject? I wanna talk about this." She held up an envelope and Regina recognised her own handwriting on the front.

The mayor paused, debating whether to succumb to the obvious distraction.

Then her mind finally filled in the blanks about what Emma wasn't saying.

"I understand," Regina said quietly. "I don't suppose I will ever get used to using my staircase either. It can be unsettling – if my thoughts stray at the wrong moment."

Emma's head was still bowed. "God, how do you stand it? Seeing it every day?" she asked, disgust at herself laced through her voice.

Regina thought about that. Truthfully it was just something she tried not to think of. And most of the time it worked.

Most of the time.

"I'm certain there will come a day when it will not be an issue."

She stated it confidently, hoping it was true.

Emma's head lifted slightly, and she made eye contact. "It will always be an issue for me. _Always_."

Regina regarded her thoughtfully. "I know, Emma."

A wealth of subtext passed in that moment.

After a minute, Emma's shoulders sagged and she looked down again, twisting the envelope in her fingers.

Regina could feel the waves of anguish coming from the forlorn figure.

"Would it help if I said I forgive you? Because I do. I have for a long time now."

Regina eyed the bowed form, realising after a pained still moment that she could see tears slipping down Emma's face, glistening in the low light.

She knew instinctively Emma did not want her touching her right now. So she watched from her spot in the bed, feeling oddly distanced from where she most wanted to be.

"Yeah," Emma said very softly. "That does help."

Silence fell again.

"So how was your big day out with all your friends?" Regina asked, trying desperately for a more neutral topic.

Emma's mouth twisted into a hint of a grin. "I have discovered Ruby makes the world's worst mocktails. I mean, shit, who puts prune juice, crushed ice, lemon and ginger-ale together and thinks that's a good mix? She called it a Purple Orgasm. Trust me when I say she was only half right."

"And here I thought you were a risk taker," Regina purred.

Emma laughed, a short, less-than-amused bark. "My tastebuds have had it with me after the last two days. The company was good, but I just wanted to…"

She faded out and glanced over at Regina.

"Let me guess – flee to Boston?"

"No," Emma shook her head adamantly. "See you."

She folded her arms around her knees. "It's funny I spent all this time away trying to expunge you from my life and my mind, but I may as well try and give up oxygen. And now you're _this_ near … well let's just say during dinner I wasn't kidding anyone."

"Oh?"

"Well, um, Mary Margaret said I was playing 'Six Degrees of Regina Mills' all evening."

"What on earth is that?"

"Apparently no matter what the topic was, she said I managed to work you into every conversation within six sentences. Including her new recycling initiative at school. Yes, I am apparently that good. Or that fixated." Emma shrugged and looked shamefaced.

Regina, however, smiled wickedly.

"Oh you like that, huh?" Emma asked, lifting her eyebrows. "Being omnipresent in my brain?"

Regina chuckled and ignored the question. "So you're saying you didn't enjoy your dinner with your former housemate?"

"Actually, I did. It was nice to catch up and she's so happy now with David and everything. It's just Mary Margaret probably enjoyed the evening a lot less. I must be pretty boring to be around these days. With her I talk about you. And with you I bawl like a baby and list off all my most pathetic faults. I'm a real catch. It's not too late to toss me back, you know. You wouldn't be the first."

She offered her most endearing crooked smile, the one the mayor knew meant she was just joking. But Regina could see the pain and fear in every line on her face, coating her like a fine dust. She wondered if Emma even realised how transparent she was.

"Well, dear, I'm not so easily dissuaded. And you hardly have the market cornered on flaws. You opened my envelope I take it?"

Emma nodded and lifted it, opening it once more, then pulled out a small white card containing one sentence of Regina's flourishing handwriting.

"I never expected this," she told Regina earnestly. "It's a massive thing. Like the gift of trust."

"It was nothing," Regina lied smoothly. "Just the best I could think of to show you on short notice."

"It's more than that. We both know it."

Regina shook her head but saw Emma lift the card, preparing to read it aloud, flashing green eyes daring her to argue.

Emma read: "Many times, at night, I am afraid of being alone."

Regina pursed her lips and tried not to feel sick upon hearing the words spoken.

An admission of a gaping, ugly flaw. It had been hard to write. More than once she had paused and debated whether she should do it. But Emma had to know: Regina was still broken in places, too.

Or broken enough that Emma might still relate to her.

"I love that you did this for me," Emma said softly, and waved the card in front of her. She stopped and stared at it for a beat, then put it away carefully in its envelope. "But I don't think I'm worthy of it."

"Emma…"

"It probably sounds a little fucked up, but I'm going to treasure this."

"Actually it probably _is_ a little, ah…"

"You can say it."

"I'd rather not."

"Do you ever swear?"

"On occasion. In my head usually." She twitched her lips.

"I would like to get in your head space some time, I think," Emma said thoughtfully. "Get to know all of you."

"No, my dear, I don't think you would. It's terrifying. There's darkness and anger. All sorts of..." She stopped. She had been about to say evil. A little too close to the bone.

Emma, however, smirked. "OK now I really, really want in."

Regina exhaled heavily. "You are the most contrary person I have ever met. Do you deliberately put your hand on hot stoves just because someone tells you not to?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I usually do," Emma grinned. "It's how I fell for you, after all. Regina Mills - the ultimate hot stove."

Emma gazed at the mayor curiously and continued: "Although I often wonder how I can possibly feel for you as much as I do when you also terrify me so much."

Regina arched an eyebrow. "And what is your conclusion, dear?"

Emma smiled back. "Life is fucked like that, is my conclusion."

The blonde shook her head sheepishly. "It's late." She stood slowly and glanced at the door to the hall passageway.

"I should turn in. You know, get some shut-eye and see what you have in store for me tomorrow. How many other Storybrooke residents you have lined up to woo me with noxious Purple Orgasms and tales of the good ole days."

Regina hesitated awkwardly for a moment, opening and shutting her mouth before finally speaking.

"You could stay. _Here_."

She swallowed thickly and her eyes flicked to the space beside her in bed, explaining without saying.

"I…" Emma paused. "It's just…"

"Never mind," Regina said stiffly. "I misspoke." She closed her eyes.

She heard movement and then felt arms slide around her and pull her in for a half hug. "Hey," Emma whispered in her ear. "I'd love that as well. A bit too much actually. But it is too soon. I need to trust that you'll still want me in the morning."

Regina tightened her arms around Emma and sighed. "Are my words not enough for you to trust? If I promised…"

"No. I need to feel it. Here."

Emma grabbed Regina's hand and trailed her fingers down to the blonde's chest and flattened them over her heart. "You scare me with all the ways you can – not just break me – but grind me into dust."

"I wouldn't..." Regina husked. She could feel Emma's heart thumping hard under her hand. "I wouldn't," she repeated more firmly.

Emma let go of the brunette's hand. "Please keep saying that. For the rest of the week. Over and over. OK?"

"I will, Emma."

Regina impulsively slid a hand around Emma's neck and pulled her lips towards hers. After a moment's hesitation the blonde responded with a tiny groan and the kiss grew deeper. When they pulled away, both women were breathing raggedly.

"You're going to be the death of me, Regina. You know that right? One way or another, it's RIP Emma Swan."

As Emma slipped out of Regina's embrace and then padded out of the room and down the hall to the guest bedroom, the mayor stared after her.

She had caught the look in the blonde's eye as she whispered her final words for the evening and it chilled her. Emma meant it with every fibre of her being.

Regina stared at the empty hall long after she'd heard a door click shut in the distance. She finally got up and shut her own bedroom door, returned to bed and turned off her lamp.

Then she stared at the ceiling and spent the next few hours trying to wipe her mind of the haunted look on Emma's face. She wondered what it would take to make it go away.

Or whether she was already too late.


	48. Chapter 48

**THE STAIRCASE  
By Red Charcoal**

Author's note: There is a very low level trigger warning in this chapter due to a brief and passing reference to suicidal ideation.

**CHAPTER 48 - REGARDING HENRY**

"Did you mean it?"

Regina clawed her way out of sleep at the familiar voice, somehow far too close, and cracked an eyelid. Emma Swan, blonde mussed hair and a worried face inches from her own, was kneeling beside her bed, staring at her intently.

"Emma?" Regina cracked open her other eye and tried to focus.

"Did you mean it?" The voice was hoarse, and the eyes tired, as though they hadn't got much sleep.

"My dear, you're really going to have to be a little more specific," Regina said as she bit back a yawn. "And it's cold. Get under the covers before I catch sympathy pneumonia. Which, before you argue, is most definitely a real thing."

She glanced at the bedside clock. 7.00am exactly. _Had Emma been waiting for it to tick over to a more civilized hour before finally waking her?_

_How considerate_, she drawled to herself.

She paused. _Just how long had she been kneeling here, waiting?_

Regina frowned for a moment as she watched Emma shakily stand and then crawl into bed next to her, maintaining her distance on the other side. She then rolled onto her side, facing Regina, and propped her head up on one hand, in an attentive pose.

"Do you really forgive me?"

Regina felt a smile spread across her face. "That's an easy question at least," she purred and inched closer to the blonde. "I definitely do."

The blonde looked at her intently for a moment before dipping her chin in a reassured nod. "Good, that's good to know," she whispered. "Makes a big ... it's good. I hoped I wasn't hearing things."

There was a silence. "I haven't been sitting here, ah, bed-stalking you for hours," she added as an afterthought. "I only just ... I came in to see if you were awake and then... Well then I had to know the answer." Emma glanced down. Her hands were shaking so she hid them.

Regina inched closer. "Were you up all night thinking about this?" she asked, eyes peering assessingly into green when Emma looked up again. "You don't look very rested. Is my guest room so inhospitable?"

"Had a lot to think about. So yeah, had a pretty late one."

Regina edged further across until she was well over the middle of the bed. "Mmm," she whispered. She could feel the blonde's body heat now, radiating invitingly, and her still sleepy body seemed to be reaching for it without much involvement on her brain's part.

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing." Emma eyed her nearness with feigned outrage and prodded Regina's bare shoulder with a finger. "Typical. Give a girl an inch and she takes a mile."

Regina smiled and slid a questing hand over Emma's hip and brought her in for a lazy half-hug, in a grip that was so loose it was barely there. "Would that really be so bad? If I took a mile?"

Emma dipped her head into Regina's shoulder, silk straps pressing against her cheek.

It was clear to both women that the mayor was very much still waking up - and in rather _pleasant_ mood.

"You are incorrigible," Emma exhaled without any censure. "And you make it really hard for me to think sometimes," she confessed in a voice muffled from a mouth pressed into warm skin and silk.

"That was the idea," the brunette practically purred, enjoying the feel of Emma pressed against her. "Less thinking." She pulled her in tighter. "More... _us_."

Regina realised, as her hand began to walk its way from Emma's hip and up across towards her chest, that she probably would not have been so bold at any other time of the day. But she had always been so susceptible to rumpled Emma, in that half world between sleep and waking. The smell of her. The feel... Her fingers were practically tingling.

"I see," Emma said, interrupting her thoughts, as they both watched as one rogue, tan finger traced its way up a white tanktop and across to a swell. "Anyone would think Madame Mayor likes a little snuggle and fumble in the morning."

Emma's nipples hardened under both their gazes. She flushed faintly.

"It's a bit late to be coy about that now," Regina said thickly as she noticed the reddening cheeks. "After all, how many times did we wake up in exactly this position?" Her wandering hand now flattened and began to rub Emma's breast gently. The blonde's breath caught. Regina's eyebrow lifted at the sound, and her lips quirked, pleased.

Emma cleared her throat and said shakily: "I absolutely would have remembered if I'd woken up to you doing this to me."

Perfect eyebrows rose even higher. "Well dear, I suppose you have a point. You never went further than presenting yourself to me like a bonobo chimp. Definitely no extras."

Emma froze. "A b-bonobo?!'' She gaped and sputtered indignantly. "If I recall it was YOU doing all the clinging and, ah, 'presenting' and fumbling with me every morning! I was just lying here, all innocent."

Regina offered her best, slow Cheshire cat smile, sleepy brown eyes regarding her with amusement. "Just keep telling yourself that, dear."

"YOU..."

"Yes?"

A long pause. Then a bark of laughter.

"Regina Mills, you are teasing me." Not a question.

The brunette chuckled, low, deep and throaty. Emma swallowed.

"Well you did claim to miss being insulted," the mayor said. "And, besides, you do make a target that is entirely too tempting."

"Starting to rethink that insult request now. And, shit, is that your way of calling me _easy_?"

Regina flashed her teeth in amusement. "Well dear, I'm not the one who greets people knocking at the door in my underwear."

"I'm sure you'd get a lot more visitors if you did."

Regina's eyes danced. "Would you visit me more often, dear, if that was my habit?" she asked in a droll tone.

Emma gave a small growl before replying. "I think you know the answer to that. I might even take to sitting on your front steps, pointedly polishing my gun to discourage ANY early morning visitors."

"Why, Miss Swan ... Are we jealous?"

Emma mumbled something into Regina's shoulder which sounded vaguely like a yes. The mayor's eyes lit up approvingly and she gave the blonde's soft breast an even firmer rub at the pleasing answer.

"Good. I expect nothing less. Now would you like me to continue doing this or do you want to hear your itinerary for the day?" Regina asked too sweetly.

"You ARE evil," Emma muttered at the loaded question.

Regina's expression fell. "So I've been told."

The kneading stopped. Her hand retracted under the covers. Even in jest that word hurt.

"Wait, no," Emma said quickly. "I didn't mean it like that - you know, the way Henry says it."

Regina rolled back to her side of the bed, the mood broken. "Speaking of Henry," she said neutrally once she had resettled, "HE is your itinerary for the day."

"Huh?"

"He requested you for today. He has it all planned out. I think he had some idea of showing you everything that has changed around Storybrooke since you've been gone."

"And what'll I do for the _next_ 20 minutes?" Emma asked with a tug of her lips.

Regina eyed her archly. "You might be surprised what's been going on since you've left. We're not entirely the backwater hick town you told your secretary about in Boston."

"I meant no offense," Emma said, looking faintly shamefaced.

"Hmm," Regina said, considering that. "It might be wise to remember sometime when you're curled up in my bed that I am actually the mayor of Storybrooke and I am proud of this town. _My town_."

"Yeah, um, sorry. You're right."

Regina nodded once and dropped the matter. She rubbed her face and felt the last of her sleepiness go. "OK, shower and breakfast," she ordered her bedmate. "Henry told me he wanted you from eight."

"Isn't it a school day? You know - Monday?"

"It's a public holiday."

"It is?"

"It is _now_," Regina said and regarded her challengingly.

"In aid of...?"

"In aid of you spending some time with Henry."

"Huh. Must have missed _that_ holiday growing up." Emma looked at her smugly until her face fell at exactly what she'd just said.

"Indeed," Regina said slowly.

"OK, um. Right," Emma stumbled. "It's a great cause."

"The very best."

"Yeah."

* * *

Henry Mills, aged 11 and 9/10ths, sat up, yawned and rubbed his eyes. He reached for his Batman watch - a gift from his mom last birthday. _7.12am. Plenty of time._ He gave a small grin and threw off his bedding, determined to get an early start to his day.

He had run his plans past his mom the previous day which were basically to let him loose on Emma - and Storybrooke - so they could "catch up''.

His mom had agreed immediately that it was a great idea and he had hugged her impulsively. He hadn't even thought about it, it just happened. And to his great surprise it had felt really good. And right. Despite their cold war and everything that had happened, and their current truce, he realised he wanted to stay hugging her for a bit longer.

That was when he'd blurted it out: "I'm so glad you're not her anymore. The evil queen I mean.''

She had stared down at him with a strange look on her face and eventually sighed and neatened his hair absentmindedly.

"Why do you say that?"

"I'm almost 12 now, not a little kid. I _know_ what you're doing. I thought it was a trick at first, but then everyone started falling in love and you just let them and then you went to get Emma." He stopped and stared at her in confusion. "I just can't totally figure out why."

"The why is fairly obvious - I want Emma to stay. We need our sheriff back."

Henry humphed dramatically. "Come on, Mom. That's just an excuse. Why do you _really_ want her to stay? The other reason. I mean she _is_ the Saviour! You're not supposed to bring her back here."

"Henry, does the 'why' even matter? Don't you want Emma here, too?"

Henry had bit his lip. The why DID matter. Very much in fact. He looked at her hard. It had been tiring out his brain trying to figure it all out. He really only had one working theory but it seemed so crazy that he had told himself it couldn't possibly be true. But now Emma and his mom were here, and not fighting and looking at each other like ...

And then there was _that_ dance.

Ever since he had begun wondering if his theory might be true. But the book never mentioned love could overcome evil queens, and de-evil them, even if that seemed to be, maybe, what was going on. Maybe.

He thought some more. Everyone knew love was the most powerful magic of all. Bigger even than evil queens_ for sure_. Of that he had no doubt. Although - that evil queen-defeating power really did seem a pretty big thing to leave out of the book.

But then again his book also never once mentioned that two women could fall in love, either, though he knew that happened sometimes, too. The same way Archie and Matt fell in love.

He wondered, not for the first time that month, if his book was actually leaving a LOT of important stuff out. Stuff that would explain _everything_.

Or, he sighed, it could also be a big trick. Evil queens could do that, too.

Then his mind flicked back to the wedding dance and the way his mother never once took her eyes off Emma. The way she held her really tight at times, whispered into her ear, smiled against her neck and looked like she was having the happiest moment of her life. Her whole face had _glowed_.

_Why would an evil queen fake that?_

He frowned again, and had no answer.

His mother was watching him closely, still waiting for an answer.

"I want her here, too," Henry confirmed. He eyed her curiously. "You really don't act like you hate her anymore." He hadn't meant to say the last bit out loud but the words had tumbled out like the random thought it was.

"Henry," Regina exhaled heavily as if she was very tired all of a sudden. "I don't. And I know you won't believe this - but I'm not sure I ever did."

Henry bit his lip again. He searched her face for signs of a lie and found none.

_This was way too hard. Way, way too hard._

He'd talk to Emma later.

* * *

Henry and Emma sat in their favorite old booth at Granny's diner, slurping on matching banana thickshakes, plates of grilled cheese sandwiches in front of them, and deconstructed their morning's tour.

"So whose idea was the new library expansion?" Emma asked and then sucked noisily on her shake.

Regina had been right, Emma mused. A lot of changes had happened while she'd been away and some of them had reshaped the entire face of Storybrooke.

"Well Belle - that's Mr Gold's girlfriend ..."

Emma's eyebrows shot up. _Gold had a girlfriend now?_ She wondered what on earth she'd be like. _Probably a clever sharply-dressed woman who would keep up with his Machiavellian schemes_, she guessed. She pictured someone aristocratic, who did not suffer fools gladly. Henry was chattering on so she pulled her focus back to him.

"... asked if she could reopen the library cos she loves books so much and so Mom went one better and brought in some computers for it, and suggested the reading nooks so people who can't afford a computer or books, or anyone who just wants to hang out, could have somewhere nice to go."

Emma nodded. She had been actually seriously impressed by the state-of-the-art addition to the old building. It had been brimming with enthusiastic residents when she and Henry stopped by. No sign of the mysterious Belle though.

"And what about the new recycling initiative Mary Margaret was telling me about - and the greening of the urban areas and the extra parks around your school? Where'd that all come from?"

"Well Mom thought it might be nice for people to have somewhere to sit and relax. And she said we can't waste resources - that it was important to look after the planet."

"Hmm," Emma said giving her shake a blast of air, amusing herself with the bubbles that formed. Henry giggled.

Emma recalled what else she'd seen: "I never thought I'd see the day the mayor would throw open the town hall for anything other than boring meetings."

"Yes!" Henry said and pointed to a flyer stuck near the diner's door. "There's a children's variety show coming up and a puppet show and a town talent contest next week and ..."

Emma grinned. "So lots of stuff happening."

"Yeah and Shakespeare in the Park is on next month, from the Storybrooke Amateur Thespian Society," Henry finally concluded.

"Storybrooke has _thespians_? Who knew?" Emma raised an eyebrow and smirked as Ruby joined them at the table, collecting their plates.

"Sure does," the waitress grinned and offered a knowing wink at the lame joke.

"Well, duh," Henry said, looking between the women in confusion, aware he was missing something. "How can you have an acting group without actors?"

"Yep true," Emma agreed blandly. She patted her stomach. "God, so full now. Good thing we did a walking tour all morning. Not that I think your mother would ever have loaned me her Merc."

She grinned at the ludicrous idea. Henry pushed his shake away and offered a contented sigh.

Emma watched him for a minute and recalled a time they had sat in these very seats and all he had wanted to talk about was one thing.

"So tell me, kid, if your mom has done all this stuff, that's pretty great, right?"

"Yeah," Henry conceded, a suspicious look in his eye.

"So do you still think she's the Evil Queen?"

Henry regarded her for a moment. "I think she's changed. She brought _you_ back, after all."

"She did. And she wouldn't take no for an answer," Emma added with a small smile. "I am starting to think she really wants me here."

Henry looked at her again and bit his lip. His fingers balled a serviette and he stared at it intently. Emma wondered what he wanted to say but wasn't.

"You know kid, I see a lot of happy people around town," Emma plowed on. "Couples in love and all that. People just generally a lot happier than before. If your mom was really the Evil Queen, she'd be putting a stop to all that, right? You told me she took away the happy endings. How can your mom really want this curse to stay in place if she is helping to make everything better and happy?"

She gave Henry an assessing look, genuinely curious as to how he'd excuse her logic. She knew he would though. He was one determined little boy.

"I-I think Mom maybe _trying_ to break the curse now," he whispered conspiratorially. "Or at least she doesn't care if it breaks. I just am not 100 per cent sure why. I mean I have a theory but..." He faded out and flicked worried eyes to his birth mother. "I'm not sure you're ready to hear it."

She gave him an amused smile. "Try me. I can handle it." She crossed her arms on the table and leaned forward.

"I ... I think Mom has fallen in love, and she doesn't care about anything else anymore but making that person happy. And if that person is, like, crammed full of goodness, then Mom knows she has to do good, too, or the person she loves won't want her. She doesn't even care if breaking the curse hurts her personally anymore, she just wants to be good enough to be loved back."

Emma's eyebrows lifted in astonishment. That was quite a theory. "Who do you think your mom loves, Henry?"

She waited a beat and watched as worry swamped her son's face. He looked so conflicted. "Like I said I'm not sure you're ready," he mumbled.

"Who is it?" she repeated, and this time her heartbeat picked up, thumping anxiously. She wasn't sure which answer she feared more - her son knowing, or him fixating on someone else.

"It's you," he whispered hotly then seemed to suck in and hold a breath. Huge wide eyes watched her fearfully.

"W-why do you say that?" she asked, stalling in panic. Her eyes flicked around the room, wondering if anyone else had heard. No one was paying any attention to them.

"It all fits. Her bringing you here and being nice to you now. Besides, I saw her dance with you. Everyone did. I heard everyone talking about it and what it had to mean. But I have eyes, too. I know my mom. She doesn't ever look at anyone like that, or hold them like that. Or smile like that. And she has never ever EVER danced like that."

Emma was the one to bite her lip this time. "I..." She wasn't sure she should confirm it or not. Ultimately she decided it was Regina's place to choose how to handle her son's suspicions. It wasn't like the mayor had even told her she loved her. Although she often felt it when Regina looked at her. The warmth that exuded from brown eyes was intoxicating at times. But her insecurities leaked out often enough to wonder if she wasn't still the mayor's passing fancy. Easily discarded when the novelty wore off.

"Do you feel the same way, Emma?" Henry asked.

The blonde tilted her head curiously. She was sure she could see hope on his young features. "You'd like that? Both your mothers together?"

"Yeah," he nodded vigorously.

"Even though we're both women?"

He rolled his eyes as if she had just said the most stupid thing ever.

_Maybe she had._

"Duh. What's that matter if you love each other? And two of my friends at school have same-sex parents. No one cares anymore, Emma." He gave her such a condescending look that he was suddenly most definitely Regina's child.

_Out of the mouths of babes._

Emma sighed. She hadn't even been here a week and Henry had figured them out. Already Regina had broken down her defenses in a way only she could, turning her into an emotional mess. And it was still only Day Three.

This was all way, way too much to consider before she had a few bourbons in her.

"So DO you love Mom?"

_Goddamn the kid was persistent._ She considered lying. She considered admitting the truth - but what would happen if she then left? She'd be getting emails from him for eternity about how "true loves should be together".

"What did I look like when we were dancing?" she asked suddenly. "You mentioned your mom, but not me."

Henry puckered his brow thoughtfully. "Like you couldn't believe it. Like if you'd landed on the moon it would make more sense."

Emma laughed aloud at that. "Pretty accurate, kid."

"And you looked like you loved dancing with Mom, like you do it all the time. Did you dance together in Storybrooke?'' he asked, suddenly fascinated at the thought.

"Nope, not even once," Emma said. "We hated each other then, remember."

"Mom told me she never hated you," Henry offered. "She told me yesterday."

"Well she could've fooled me. I'd hate to see what she's like when she _really_ hates someone."

"Well she did really hate Miss Blanchard."

"Oh. Yeah, right. I remember."

"But she doesn't anymore. Not so much anyway. That's also more proof she's changed and she's not that evil now. She even donated to Miss Blanchard's school fundraiser."

"She what?"

"Miss Blanchard was all vague and weird and kept saying 'Wonders will never cease' for, like, three days after." Henry gave a wide grin.

Emma chuckled.

"So are you gonna answer the question?" Henry looked at her slyly.

Emma gave a cryptic grin. "No kid, I'm not."

* * *

It was 11pm and Regina was rubbing in her arm cream slowly - very, very slowly - while, if she was completely honest with herself, she waited. Emma had begged off dinner with her that night by saying she wanted to catch up with Ruby, one on one. The mayor had immediately and forcibly attempted to squelch the jolt of jealousy and gave her a neutral "Of course. Have fun." She didn't think she'd pulled it off entirely because Emma had looked at her curiously.

The blonde had not returned yet, and the mayor had already surreptitiously called the bar and grill the other woman had hinted she was eating at to confirm their closing times, and that Emma had in fact left.

The waiter assured her she had just gone. But that was half an hour ago.

Regina had unlocked her French doors, patted down her nightwear, fluffed her hair a little, and waited. And waited. She supposed it was possible Emma had finally decided to use her front door and was already home, but based on last night's conversation, she doubted it.

A shadow crossed the doors and Regina let out the breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. Emma tapped twice on the glass and waved cheerfully and Regina hid her smirk as she called out that it was open.

She watched as Emma closed and locked it behind her and sank to the floor in her usual spot. The blonde's eyes fell to a folded up blue blanket beside her.

"Hey, thanks!" Her eyes lit up as she shook it out and drew it around her legs. She fortunately didn't make a point about why Regina knew to leave it there. That she had been waiting for her like some doe-eyed teenager.

"Oh and thanks for the other thing. That made the climb easier."

Regina merely nodded. "I didn't want you breaking your neck. That would be exceedingly hard to explain to Henry and everyone else in Storybrooke as to why you insisted on scaling my wall."

The mayor had spent much of the morning hunting around hardware stores for an appropriate short rope ladder to hang from the side of her balcony. When she could find nothing suitable, she had then spent the afternoon - while Henry and Emma were enjoying the movies - watching as Marco made her one to measure. She had knotted it to the balcony railing herself - after researching the most appropriate knotting techniques online, finally following a YouTube video assiduously. She had hoped the impetuous blonde would avail herself of the climbing device.

She had.

"Well it was very thoughtful, Regina."

"It was nothing," the mayor shrugged and waved a hand casually. "Just something I had lying around in my garage."

Emma eyed her doubtfully, and the brunette realised she knew she was lying. Regina gave a small, sheepish smile. "Or something like that," she amended. "So, how was your date with Miss Lucas?" She changed the topic and made the question deliberately provocative. Her eyes glittered.

"Not a date, Regina," Emma replied with a knowing look and leaned back. "But it was great to catch up. I missed her. In fact I think half the reason I hired the secretary I did was cos she reminds me so much of Rubes."

"I detected no plunging cleavage or excesses of skin on the lovely Miss Somerville," Regina said airily.

Emma rolled her eyes. "There's way more to Ruby than her fashion taste."

"I'm certainly glad to hear it."

A silence fell between them which was comfortable - but Regina could see by the way Emma was opening her mouth repeatedly that she was dying to say something.

"Out with it," she ordered.

"Huh?"

"Whatever it is," Regina said.

Emma looked at her hands. She glanced up.

"I sneaked a look at the next card in the envelopes you gave me, before I went out."

"I see." Regina sucked in her breath. "Which one was it?"

"The one about Henry."

"Oh." Regina examined her fingernails as she recalled her words she had written: "If anything were to happen to Henry I don't think I could go on living. It would break me completely. I think I would choose to follow him."

"By 'follow him' do you mean you would, ah ... take your own.."

"Yes." The answer was short and clipped and left no room for debate.

"What if we were together? As a couple? And then something happened to Henry? Would you still..."

Regina thought about that and felt utter confusion.

"I had never considered that. I-I'm not so sure now."

"I would help you through it, you know. You wouldn't face that alone."

"I thought there was no 'we' yet?"

"In this hypothetical situation there is. And hypothetical me would be devastated if you took your own life because Henry had died. Or for any other reason."

"Oh."

"Just 'oh'?"

"I am not used to having someone who would care about me in that way." Regina's voice was quiet and, to her horror, she heard it tremble. Emma's head lifted and turned to her, so the brunette knew she'd heard it, too.

"I know the feeling," Emma said just as quietly. "I have been alone - no support I mean - almost my whole life."

Regina exhaled. "I am ... sorry, by the way. I knew that about you and there was that day I made the dig, that not having someone is the worst possible curse."

Emma's lips thinned and pressed hard together. "You always did have unerring accuracy when you wanted to hurt me."

"One of my more unfortunate talents. You should know that if we were together, and we had a fight, I still have that tendency," Regina admitted. "I cannot curb it as much as I'd like."

"If I recall one of the things you said you liked about me was that I have seen you, warts and all, and never shied away from that. It's very true. I know who you are, Regina. My doubts have nothing to do with your sharp tongue."

Emma suddenly flushed as if noticing another connotation to her words. Regina smirked as she cottoned on. "You think about my sharp tongue a lot, Miss Swan?" she asked silkily.

Emma reddened even more.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" The blonde attempted a casual tone and failed miserably.

"I think I already do if your guilty face is any indication," Regina drawled. "That's quite alright, dear. I think I quite like knowing that."

Emma humphed for effect and her blush grew.

The brunette gave a low chuckle. She watched as Emma pushed herself off the wall and began folding the blanket back into a neat blue square.

"I think it might be time for me to turn in. I have bar smoke all over me," Emma said and winced, her nostrils flaring.

"Ahh, so you went to one of the classier establishments then?" Regina said with a faint sneer. "I might have guessed."

Emma laughed outright at that. "I love how you pretend not to know. The waiter told us you called to see when he shut and if we were still there. He said he'd told you we'd gone - he seemed to think he was rescuing me from, uhm, domestic trouble. Anyway I took that as my cue. It was getting late anyway."

Regina scowled and this time felt the color rise in her own cheeks. "That's the last time I expect discretion from hospitality employees. I could call his superior and get him fired for that."

"But you won't," Emma inserted playfully and sidled over to the bed. "I know you won't."

"You think you know me so well, dear," the mayor said with a warning tone, trying to scrabble back her dignity.

Emma leaned forward and dropped a goodnight kiss lightly on her lips. "I don't _think_ I do,'' she whispered and dropped another kiss. "I _know_ I do." She said it cockily, daring the brunette to disagree.

"Fine." Regina rolled her eyes. "I won't get him fired. But the establishment will be boycotted by me to the end of my days."

Emma snickered. "Have you ever actually even been there once yet?"

"Not the point." Regina tried to look more outraged but it was hard when Emma was eyeing her with such fond amusement.

She leaned up and captured Emma's lips for a longer kiss, running fingers through blonde hair and sighing when she finally let go. She suddenly wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"Dear God, you weren't kidding about the smoke. Get into the shower before I throw you in there."

Emma's expression faltered.

"Or would you like to see me do that? Hmm?" Regina asked, lips curling. She wasn't being serious but Emma did suddenly seem to be giving the matter some earnest thought.

"Maybe not tonight," Emma said softly, gazing directly into brown eyes. Regina felt herself being lost in their depths. She swallowed at the unspoken "but maybe another time" that was hanging between them.

Emma pulled away very, very slowly and headed for the door. She paused and looked back with a soft smile.

"Good night, Regina."

The door clicked close.


	49. Chapter 49

**THE STAIRCASE  
By Red Charcoal**

Author's note: So it's 3am as I post this. I am so tired I have no clue if this chapter is good, bad or indifferent. If it's the last two, please blame sleep deprivation. Enjoy...

**CHAPTER 49: SECRETS OF THE UNIVERSE**

Regina's nostrils twitched as she woke and she immediately snapped her eyes open warily. _OK, no Emma Swan perched by her bed today_. Her heart sank slightly until she got a glimpse of a steaming cup of coffee on the chest of drawers by her bed.

A note was beside it.

She reached for both and sat up in bed, inhaling the slightly nutty Cuban scent of her favourite blend.

She unfolded the note curiously and read.

_Hey Regina_

_I have my own itinerary figured out for today. But think you can be free at five? Come home then. Text me if you can't make it._

_Emma._

_PS Enjoy the coffee. Henry tells me this is how you like it. _

Regina frowned, trying to work out the note as if it was a secret code. She'd had some vague plans for the day for Emma but nothing concrete, and nothing that couldn't be postponed. She glanced at the clock. 7.03am. Hmm. Well she supposed a day in the office wouldn't hurt, given she'd been letting things slide since Emma had arrived in town.

She reviewed some work in her head briefly as she sipped her coffee, delighting at the fact it really was just the way she liked it. _She could get used to room service._ She smiled distractedly for a moment and then realised she was actually daydreaming. Like some foolish love-struck teenager. She put the finished cup down and stood.

She slipped on her blue silky robe and padded down the stairs, half expecting to find the blonde in the kitchen attempting to make eggs. Instead she found Henry munching on cereal in his striped pajamas, with a still slightly sleepy look on his face.

"You're up early," she commented, glancing around. _No one else in sight. _

Henry shrugged and continued munching. She tried again.

"Emma left already? Did she say what she's up to?"

Henry shrugged again. Regina narrowed her eyes and stared at her son. He'd been like this through his not-speaking-to-his-mother stage and she was not keen to go back to it.

"Any particular reason you're not talking to me?"

Henry nodded his head and swallowed, offering a small smile. "Couldn't talk with my mouth full," he said smartly. "And Emma left half an hour ago."

"Hmm," Regina said and opened the fridge, reaching for bread and a jug of orange juice.

"Mom, can I sleep over at Jason's tonight? His parents' number is on the pad if you wanna call and check."

Regina poured juice into two glasses and brought them over to the table.

"We'll see. What's the occasion?"

"He got the new Batman v Joker Xbox game for his birthday. He keeps saying it's the greatest game ever."

"Henry, it's a school night."

"We won't be up too late and I can go to school from his place tomorrow with him."

He looked at her so hopefully that she caved with a long sigh. "Fine. But you have to promise to do your homework when you're there. I'll be checking with the Fletchers to see that you do."

"Thanks Mom," he grinned and then, as she tapped his OJ glass pointedly, he grabbed it and gulped down his juice.

"So," Regina said as she headed back to the counter to put some bread in the toaster, "Did Emma not say _anything_ about her plans?"

"Just that she has to see Ruby." Henry shrugged again as if it was all too hard and put his bowl in the sink. He suddenly looked desperate to leave. "Gotta get a shower and get ready for school."

He bounded up the stairs before she could reply. Regina eyed the whir of small legs thoughtfully until he disappeared.

_Well. At lunchtime, it might be worth a little stroll over to Granny's to find out exactly why Miss Lucas was monopolising all Emma's time._

Not that she was jealous or anything. A ridiculous notion. She frowned faintly as that 'ridiculous notion' continued to plague her for the rest of the day.

* * *

"Madame Mayor, what a pleasant surprise," Eugenia Lucas greeted her as she headed to the counter at lunchtime. "We haven't seen you in here in some time. What can I get you?"

Regina glanced behind the woman and then around the café. She slid a hand to hips encased in a black cotton pencil skirt. "Is Miss Lucas around?" she asked casually.

Surprise washed across the older woman's face, and Regina supposed it was an odd request. She barely spoke to the waitress/part-time deputy sheriff beyond placing curt orders and eyeing her more outlandish outfits with disdain.

"Ruby? Why, no. She took the day off. She and Emma disappeared together first thing this morning."

Regina pressed her lips together to prevent herself saying the first words that came to mind. Her teeth ground together.

"Mayor Mills? Are you all right? You look a little pale."

"I am fine, Eugenia. I think I will have your chicken salad special."

Without waiting for a confirmation, Regina stalked to the corner booth, grabbing a nearby newspaper, making a science of opening it and pretending to be utterly absorbed. After reading three times that Farmer Nate's top hog, Bubba, had won Best in Show at the local fair last month, she slapped the paper down and reached for her phone.

She realised she hadn't yet confirmed her availability for Emma's appointment tonight, so she fired off a text. Then she sent a second one, asking: "Where are you?"

She stared at the phone, as if willing it to yield all the blonde's secrets but it stubbornly refused to so much as blink.

"Keep glaring at it like that and you'll fry it," Granny chortled as she placed a chicken salad in front of her.

"Thank you, Eugenia," Regina ground out, and turned to her food, nudging the phone aside with her elbow. Every now and then as she chewed moodily she cast surreptitious looks at it.

It never beeped for the rest of the day.

* * *

Regina found concentrating at work was not an option and by 4.30pm she was practically climbing the walls in frustration. Her secretary had taken to creeping into her office as though fearful of an impending nuclear explosion. She may not have been far wrong.

All Regina's clandestine enquiries had proved fruitless and no one had seen Emma nor Ruby anywhere around Storybrooke all day. In fact the only place she hadn't checked – nor would she on principle, she told herself firmly – was Ruby's apartment.

She glanced at her phone again, checking the signal strength was strong (three bars) and the In Box contents (no new messages).

_This was ridiculous._ She pushed back her mayoral leather chair, stood, snatched the device and slammed it furiously into her handbag.

"Miss Greene, I'm going home. You can forward any urgent calls to my cell." She stalked out, not bothering to acknowledge the exceedingly relieved look on her assistant's face as she departed.

* * *

The emptiness of her manor struck Regina when she let herself in. She knew even before she looked that Emma was not here. Her home seemed to vibrate on a different frequency when the blonde was inside. It sounded absurd but it felt true. She brought a haphazard humanness to it and Regina could always tell when Emma was about. Her shoulders slumped as she dumped her keys on the small table near the entrance, along with her handbag.

She walked upstairs and stuck her head in each of the rooms to check, but the emptiness confirmed her suspicions.

Finally she pushed open her own bedroom door.

_No one. _

_Still, she was early. It was only 4.45pm._ She kicked off her patent black heels and sat on the edge of her bed staring numbly around. _It wasn't supposed to be like this. Getting Emma back was not supposed to make her feel more dejected and lonely than when the other woman was in Boston._

She sighed and turned. Her glance fell on her bedside table. Beside her empty coffee cup she'd forgotten about that morning lay an embossed envelope. Her eyes widened and she virtually launched herself across the bed and tackled it.

Inside she found a letter in Emma's curly, almost childlike handwriting.

_Regina - Meet me here:  
_Underneath read a strange string of numbers, and a suggestion she wear warm clothing. She stared at the number again before the penny dropped. Ah – map co-ordinates. Her Mercedes had a GPS that would direct her right there – as Emma clearly knew.

She spotted a postscript.

_PS Didn't get your text at the time you sent it – I was out of range._

_PPS I missed you. x o x_

Regina smiled and felt foolish for her fears, putting the card down slowly. _  
_

What any of these plans had to do with Ruby was a mystery, but she was sure she'd find out in good time.

She changed out of her pencil skirt and silk blouse, into warm woollen trousers, a designer tee-shirt then, over that, a thicker button-down navy shirt. Lastly she slipped on some thick socks and dark, stylish hiking boots that she had bought once on a whim and never worn.

She glanced at the clock. 5.05. _Right. Time to go._ She paused, incredulous she had forgotten. _Henry_. Then she recalled his plans for the evening.

_How suspiciously convenient._

Her mouth quirked at having been played so easily. Any other time she would be annoyed. But now? She shook her head wryly and hoisted her bag. _She and Henry would be having a little chat tomorrow about his artful scheming with Emma. _She smiled in spite of herself as she locked up and headed for the garage.

She keyed in the GPS co-ordinates and watched as her car's mapping system triangulated her destination. She blinked in astonishment and decided she had to have made a mistake. She hit delete, re-entered the number and waited.

_Well_. Same result. She was clearly about to be heading for the middle of nowhere. She started her engine and hit her garage button, wondering what on earth the unpredictable Miss Swan was up to now.

* * *

An hour later, Regina's Mercedes rolled to a stop at the end of a secluded, grassy road. The last of the day's dying sun cast elongated shadows across a small hollow and the brunette glanced around.

Her eyes widened in surprise.

She was in a circular grassy clearing, surrounded by weeping trees, which had candle-lit Japanese paper lanterns hanging from many of the branches. The effect was casting an enchanting glow around the spot which was surrounded by thick forest and emerald green mountains rising up in the mid distance.

Wildlife noises abounded, birds calling to each other, the buzz of crickets. A large white marquee tent was off to one side, lit up by a camping lantern and Regina could see an Emma Swan-shaped silhouette moving around. She appeared to be preparing food if the delicious aroma wafting from within was anything to go by.

Regina looked back to the middle of the clearing and saw a black tarpaulin laid out on the soft, mossy ground, upon which sat a plump, queen-sized airbed, covered in thick blankets with colourful cushions and pillows scattered all around, giving the air of a luxurious Arabian bedroom, only with nature for its floor and walls. A tall, thin battery-powered heater placed to one side provided another exotic lighting effect, a column of bright orange yielding toasty warmth. Emma had clearly thought of everything.

Soft, aching music was coming from the tent, and Regina realised it was getting louder. The mayor turned to see Emma striding closer, holding a CD boom box and a plate of food.

"Oh hey, you made it!" she beamed and pointed to the inviting airbed. "Pull up a seat. The show is gonna begin soon."

"The show?" Regina repeated stupidly, taken aback by the sight of the blonde. She was wearing tight black jeans, black boots and a black thick shirt – all of which showed off her fit, honed physique to impressive effect. She reminded Regina of a sexy special ops agent.

Emma placed the food tray and music player down and sat, patting the air mattress beside her. She removed her shoes and tucked her legs under herself. "Sit. I promise I won't bite." She waggled her eyebrows and Regina had to laugh at the absurd sight.

Regina settled down cross-legged next to the blonde, after removing her own boots, and eyed the most delicious-looking treats. Savoury triangles, little mince balls with a spicy tomato sauce, and curious vegetable creations with toothpicks through them that Regina couldn't identify.

"You've been busy," she said appreciatively as she snagged one. A flavour explosion rocketed through her mouth and she gave a delighted look. "Very nice."

Emma smiled, pleased. "Yep, I forced Ruby into servitude to get the food prepared for me. It's why I wanted to talk to her last night and endured all that second-hand smoke and bad house music at her favourite dive. She said the steaks and shots I bought her were a good trade off." Emma grinned. "Oh and I also suck at one-woman tent erecting, so I needed her help on that, too. It took a while but we got there in the end."

They both glanced at a fairly solidly standing tent and Regina nodded approvingly. "Well that was nice of Miss Lucas," she said, for once leaving out the sarcasm. It _was_ nice. Her baser, territorial instincts to snarl at the waitress curled up in the corner of her soul, dormant for once. _And the food _was_ delicious._

"Here," Emma handed her a wine glass, and poured some white wine. "Cheers."

"Cheers," Regina replied and sipped, curious as to what the other woman's preferences were. _An actually decent drop_. "I like this."

"Don't sound so surprised," Emma laughed. "I did pick up a few tricks in Boston. And one of them was fine wine appreciation."

Regina's lips twitched and she glanced around. The sun had set completely now, so the lanterns hung in a circle around them were giving off a dancing, ethereal glow. Moths darted about the lights and the effect was magical. She half expected to see fairies come skipping out of the grass.

"Beautiful," she whispered and turned back to Emma, her brown eyes burning. "Beautiful," she said again, this time looking the blonde directly in the eye. She left no doubt as to what she meant.

Emma dipped her head and chose not to notice. "I love it here. I used to come when I lived in Storybrooke. When I needed some time out. I found this place when I got hopelessly lost this one day, and I fell in love. It's just so stunning. I remember once wondering how it would look glowing with lanterns. Now I know."

Regina swirled the wine in her glass and smirked. "How come I never knew you got so lost?"

"It's not something I wanted to advertise," Emma said and looked faintly embarrassed. "I am sure you wouldn't have let me hear the end of it. 'Sheriff loses Storybrooke, news at ten'."

Regina pressed her lips together and couldn't deny it.

"So what is this about?" the brunette asked curiously. "Why are we here?"

"We're here to see the secrets of the universe," Emma stated grandly, with a grin. "And because yesterday I didn't just read one card of yours, I read two."

"Oh?"

"Mmm."

"Which one?"

Emma put her plate and wine glass to one side and lay back. After a moment's silence, Regina followed suit. They lay side by side, looking up at the night sky and listening to the sounds of the nightlife and music. Regina shivered and Emma reached down and pulled a thick blanket up over them – one the mayor recognised as belonging to the B&B. _Ruby had certainly been generous in her help._

An owl hooted in the distance.

Regina waited.

"Your card said: 'I have never been taken on a date. Deep down I sometimes feel I must be unworthy of such attention."

Regina stared up at the inky sky and tried hard not to let her own words affect her. The truth was she was ashamed no one had ever asked her out. Leopold didn't have to. Kings just take their due. Her lip curled in loathing. Daniel didn't get a chance. And Graham – well he was there for tension relief, nothing more – and had never exhibited the slightest romantic bone in his dull body. Nor did she want him to. But no one had ever treated her like a woman who deserved to be wooed. And no one had ever once asked Regina Mills out.

"Ah," she said uncomfortably when she realised Emma seemed to be waiting for a comment.

"So I wanted to give you a date to remember, Regina," Emma said softly, "Because I had never been on a date either - until I met you."

Regina felt shock surge through her body and she whipped her neck around to stare at the blonde. "Really? You?"

"Yep," Emma said. "Sex does not a date make. Entrapping sneaky bail jumpers doesn't count either. But I remember what it felt like when you took me for dinner and dancing in Boston. That was an amazing night and you made me feel so special, even if I was pretty much all over the place emotionally. And I wanted you to have that feeling I had – to feel worthy. And special."

Regina leaned forward and kissed Emma's cheek. She dusted the spot with her thumb as though sealing it. "Thank you," she whispered in her ear, and trailed her fingers through her long curling hair. "This is amazing." She paused. "What's this music? It's so haunting."

"Kate Bush – very '90s. But she seems to match the setting rather well, don't you think?"

Regina lay back and closed her eyes. "Yes, it's eerie and beautiful all at once. Like two lonely ghosts dancing."

Emma glanced at her and gave a small appreciative smile, then reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. "Two lonely ghosts dancing. Yeah. A lot like us, huh?"

The temperature had dropped a few degrees, even with the heater on, so Emma pulled up a second blanket and snuggled closer.

"So, where are these secrets of the universe you promised me?" Regina asked, enjoying the feel of the other woman's closeness. Her body heat was keeping her cosy.

"You're staring at them."

"Hmm?"

"The stars – look. Storybrooke is so far out of civilisation there's no ambient glow from any city lights. It means we can see so much more of our galaxy. Right now we're looking at light from stars that has travelled thousands of light years to reach us. Some of the stars may have already burned out and no longer exist. We could basically be gazing at the glows of the last traces of long-dead suns.

"And how is that providing us with the secrets of the universe?" Regina asked quietly, intrigued by the wonder and enthusiasm she could hear in the voice of a woman normally so guarded.

"Don't you see, Regina? We are small. Our worries are _tiny_ on a galactic scale. We're specks of specks of dust compared to all this." Her arm swept across the sky in front of her. "It puts everything into perspective. Whatever fears we might have or issues or silly concerns – they are nothing when put next to the vast scale of infinity. The backdrop of the universe is a freaking sobering thing."

Regina digested that and stared up. She did feel small compared to the stars. She always had, even when she strutted around a castle and barked orders at armies of a thousand men. Looking up made her feel small. So, in decades gone by, she made it a policy to never ever look up.

Tonight, Regina Mills looked up. And in a brief moment she understood: Sometimes it was OK to be small. That was nothing to fear.

She gazed in amazement.

_What a concept._

"Do you see?" Emma asked softly.

"I think I do," Regina whispered. And she meant it.

She turned to Emma and studied her profile in the dancing lantern light. "Does this mean your fears about us now feel small and in perspective, too?"

Emma's lips curled in amusement at the leading question. "Smaller."

Regina slid closer and slipped a hand over Emma's waist, drawing them together. She rested her head against the blonde's chest, enjoying the thudding of her heart. It picked up its pace.

"A shooting star!" Emma exclaimed and her arm shot up to point.

"Mmm hmm," Regina said absently, and began to nuzzle the blonde's neck. "Lovely."

She felt eyes drop to watch her. "Regina, I don't think your mind is on the wonders of the universe."

The mayor gave a throaty chuckle which reverberated through both their chests. "Oh, I'd say it most definitely is."

Emma sucked in a breath and let it out shakily.

"I … ah..."

Regina plucked at the buttons of Emma's shirt and then looked up at her hopefully. "Emma?" she said, asking a vague question that needed no further explanation.

"Um…" Fear briefly crossed the blonde's eyes. Then she drifted her gaze skyward. "Yes," she said and swallowed. "I … Yes."

A smile lit up the brunette's face and her fingers began to now tug at the buttons in earnest. Warm fingers slid inside as she finally undid four buttons only to curse as she discovered a black tank top underneath.

"Dear, you're rugged up like an Arctic explorer," she complained. She tapped her fingers against the offending material and pouted.

That broke the tension and Emma laughed aloud, nudging Regina off her so she could sit up. The blonde drew the long-sleeved half unbuttoned shirt off herself, and then quickly stripped off the tank and a white bra, giving the mayor a generous view of pale skin and rounded bare breasts, swaying gently. Emma shivered and slipped the thick shirt back on but did not button it. She lay back down and tossed her tank top in the general direction of the tent.

Regina swallowed. Her fingers were suddenly inside the shirt, ghosting over warm flesh, seeking out soft breasts. Her hands shook as she felt for the hardening peaks and then she leant forward, flicking the shirt away with her knuckles, and dropped her mouth to a tight knot.

Her tongue licked and swirled across the nipple, and she occasionally paused to nibble and lightly chew, delighting in the choked gasps she could hear from the blonde beneath her. She swapped nipples and moaned herself.

"Well dear," Regina said after a moment, eyes sliding up to Emma's, "You certainly are tasty."

"_Fuck_," Emma muttered, her eyes rolling back in her head.

"I intend to. _Patience_."

Emma's breath hitched and Regina paused and watched in fascination as her chest rose and fell more rapidly.

"Take it off," Emma suddenly hissed. "Your shirt. I want to see you, too."

Regina felt arousal skitter through her at the brazen demand. She looked at the lust-blown irises of the woman beneath her and quickly leaned back, unbuttoning her shirt and slipping it off her shoulders. Her fitted designer tee underneath went next. She stared at the blonde in nothing but a lacy black bra.

Hands shot out from under the blanket and began to touch her, so, so gently. A deep sigh followed, but Regina was unsure whose it was.

"Off – take it off," Emma groaned. So Regina reached behind herself and unlatched her bra.

Her breasts fell free and she felt Emma's eyes boring into her. The blonde's mouth had dropped slightly open, taking in the sight of breasts, and dusky red-tipped nipples jutting out against the cold night air. Hands suddenly reached for them, sliding and kneading, and Regina felt a bolt of heat shoot directly her to her core.

This time she knew the moaned sigh was hers.

She lowered herself down onto Emma, pressing their breasts together. Skin on skin, in a most delicious sensation of flesh and fevered friction. She slid a leg between Emma's, and leaned forward for a demanding kiss.

This kiss was better than any she had experienced before so far. Their tongues duelled and fought, as their bodies rocked, tops of thighs rubbing against molten cores. Closer now. Regina could feel her centre aching for attention. Mingled moans were filling the night air.

"Need to feel you, please, please let me feel you," Emma whispered, as if reading her mind, when they finally tore themselves away from each other's lips, gasping for air.

The brunette lifted herself off Emma and put her weight on her forearms. Invitation made. Emma seized the opportunity to undo the single button and side zip on Regina's pants and push the fabric hastily down to her knees.

Regina felt the blonde's warm, questing fingers sliding down towards her centre, pausing to first scritch at her coarse, fine curls hidden inside her silky panties. Fingers now slipped lower and dusted and wriggled against her outer folds, a slightly cooler sensation against her blazing heat.

It was sublime.

She bucked and then pushed forward, forcing the roaming, scrabbling, maddening fingers to find and rub against her clit. She was gasping at the sensations. The exploring fingers wiggled further down and then Emma's wrist paused and twisted, slipping fingers inside her, into her copious wetness.

Her body clenched instantly at the intrusion.

"Oh!" Regina gasped and froze. She bit her lip and stared at Emma, startled.

The sensation had suddenly shifted from wonderful to … something else. Something darker.

Anxiety flitted across her features and Emma immediately saw it, green eyes registering shock, and pulled her fingers quickly out.

"S-sorry," she said, eyes impossibly wide. She pulled her liquid-coated hand up and, unseeingly, shifted it to her mouth as if by rote, licking her fingers. And then she also froze. A look of horror crossed her features as she dropped her hand like it was a searing hot poker.

"I recognise your taste," Emma whispered in a strangled voice. "I had tried to forget it…" She bit her lip and paled.

"I remember the feeling of your fingers in me," Regina whispered back in anguish. "It brings back other … feelings. Not pleasant ones." They looked at each other fearfully for a moment.

"What do we do now?" Emma asked in a small voice.

The sounds of nature seemed impossibly loud as neither spoke.

"I should have realised. Archie warned me this might happen," Regina said, breathing raggedly. She tried to soothe her beating heart, trying to remember the psychiatrist's calming strategies. At least this wasn't one of her panic attacks. It was more an unsavoury reminder of certain events. Unpleasant rather than anything else.

"Archie?! You told him about wanting … us? I mean a-a… sexual relationship?"

"Yes." Regina's heart rate was now back to normal, she noted, and the anxiety seemed to have drifted just beneath the surface again. She exhaled in relief and chanced a look at Emma.

The blonde looked outraged and Regina almost laughed. "Well I had to tell him, dear, if I wanted there to _be_ an 'us'. I discovered I am not particularly good at progressing my mental health all by myself. Neither of us are, now are we?"

Emma looked away. "I guess not."

The blonde shifted her legs uncomfortably and Regina's nose twitched. _Oh_. She realised the blonde was both confused, worried … and still greatly aroused. She sighed.

"Maybe you should take care of your, er, situation? Yourself?" Regina said tightly.

"What?!"

"Do I really have to spell it out?"

"Clearly."

"Masturbate, dear, before you immolate."

Emma looked at her angrily, obviously dying to say she wasn't aroused, that she didn't still feel pent up. That it wasn't possible given what had just happened. Shame and humiliation darkened her features.

"I can tell," Regina explained simply, easily reading the thoughts darting across stormy green eyes. She stared back up at the stars. "I can smell your arousal. I can hear your heart thudding away. I know. And it's OK. I really don't mind."

"It's not OK," Emma said crossly. "How can it be OK for me to just … you know … like nothing's happened. And with you right here. I'm not an animal."

Regina almost laughed. "Of course you are, dear. We all are. And I just said I don't mind. Just go ahead and get it over with. I'll even look the other way if it helps."

She rolled over onto her side and affected an uninterested posture.

There was silence for several minutes and she finally peered back to see Emma staring at her darkly.

"Regina," the blonde intoned and exhaled heavily, "while I admire how pragmatic as all hell you can be at times, this is not how I pictured our first time making love."

"Oh?" Regina turned back, suddenly vaguely interested in the conversation's turn. "How did you picture it?"

"Mutual for one thing," Emma said in frustration. "And not giving you flashbacks for another. So it's all in or none in on the sexy times tonight."

"Oh," Regina repeated, looking at the dark determination in the eyes opposite.

"So unless you want to join me in a bit of simultaneous, DIY self-exploration, we should go back to watching the wonders of the universe."

Emma flopped back with a disappointed sigh and stared up into space. Her breath then caught and she suddenly looked intrigued. "Wait, you don't do you?"

Regina glanced over.

"I mean you could, too? You know, attend to your needs at the same time I do," Emma finished. "Never mind. It's a stupid idea. Grandeur of the universe it is."

A jolt of fear shot through Regina and her lips thinned.

"Hey, what is it?" Emma's voice softened.

"I'd like to, Emma, but I can't."

Emma stared at her uncomprehendingly. Regina sighed. "I've tried and I can't. Not since that day … on the staircase." She brought her arms up and hugged herself and willed the utter embarrassment not to show on her face.

Emma's mouth opened in shock and she stared at her.

Regina wished she hadn't said anything. "Stop looking at me like that," she demanded. "I feel like a zoo exhibit."

"I'm so sor..."

"No! Not back to this again! I don't want your pitying apologies." Regina's eyes flashed. "I just want us to be an 'us'. Why is this so hard?!"

She suddenly slapped her hand against the mattress in irritation. Then dropped her other hand across her eyes, to hide the tears she felt building.

"Maybe," Emma began hesitantly, "you just need the right … um … stimulation?"

Regina froze and snapped her eyes open, turning to Emma curiously. "Excuse me?"

"I think maybe – well clearly - we're not ready to be together-together. Y-yet. But I might be able to help get you in the mood to help you? Because, shit Regina, two years is way too long to have absolutely zero orgasms. That sort of torture should be against the Geneva Convention."

"Tell me about it," the mayor muttered softly.

Emma smiled coyly at that and slid her shirt off her shoulders. Naked from the top down now she stared intently at Regina as she began to play with her own breasts, never once taking her eyes off her.

She began to rub and tweak her nipples and watched as the mayor's eyes darkened with desire. She arched her back and wiggled her hips a little, which caused her breasts to gently sway.

"God," Regina swore softly, completely transfixed. Before she realised it, her own hand had slid down her pants, still hidden by the blanket.

Emma gave a small smile as she noted the hand movement. She stood, stepping off the air mattress, and shimmied her jeans down her legs, until she was standing nearly naked in the ghostly surrounds, only wearing small white cotton underwear. She moved until she was standing near the heater.

Regina could see a prominent damp spot at her crotch and her eyes widened, flicking back up to Emma's face.

The blonde slowly, achingly slowly, hooked her thumbs into the sides of the panties and pulled them down her long legs. She swayed evocatively in time with the music, rolling her shoulders and hips, her hair shimmering like a golden veil. Then she kicked her panties completely off her feet and stood stark naked. One hand touched her breasts, rolling her nipples. The other, her fingers slid down to her stomach, and then buried themselves into a small triangle of dark hair, curling inside, nestling deeper. Then they began to move in a timeless rhythm.

"Oh…"

The word was quiet and carried on the night air, and this time Regina realised she had been the one to say it. She felt wetness pooling between her thighs, certainly far more than she had felt in many, many months. She wiggled her fingers and felt an answering flash of arousal.

Emma gave her a hint of a smile at the sound and took her hand out from between her thighs and held it up to show it was glistening with her desire. Then she turned around and bent over at the waist, running her hands down thighs to rest on her calves, and shook her hips, providing the transfixed mayor with a spectacular view.

She turned back around. She looked Regina right in the eye, and gave a seductive, knowing smile. She licked her lips as she resumed touching herself, swaying once more to the music in the background.

Regina felt her heart hammering and her fingers began to dance rapidly over her folds, raking liquid across her bundle of nerves. Emma, watching her with scorching eyes, shuddered and then spread her swollen lips, showing Regina her most private secrets. The light caught the shadows and smooth skin and she appeared to be a mystical goddess. She shifted again and Regina could see she was incredibly wet.

She gasped, and a powerful tingle shot through her. "Oh god," she croaked. "Oh, hell…Oh fuck, fuck, fuck."

Her fingers were now drenched, her clit was so aroused, and she could feel herself clenching and unclenching in her lower stomach. "I think I'm going to…" she groaned, and her eyes shot up to look at Emma in wonder, and she parted her mouth.

Emma smiled encouragingly and plunged her own fingers inside herself, offering an almost primal moan. It suited the setting, with the haunting music, and strange flickering lights in the trees.

Regina's back arched, her hips thrust forward, and her last sight was dark eyes watching her hungrily before the mayor slammed her eyes shut and a keening noise erupted from her throat.

Her orgasm spread through her like warm, liquid honey, the most intense one she had ever experienced, and it filled her with such joy she knew it must be showing, or more likely, radiating, off her face.

She heard a different moan and her eyes flickered open. Emma was coming. Fingers were a blur as they danced across her clit and dipped in and out. Regina watched as the other woman's knees suddenly buckled and she landed heavily on the mattress, a hand still pumping between her legs.

"Oh hell," she gasped, shaking.

It took a minute for Regina to realise the woman was not just shaking from her orgasm but seemed to be cold.

"Come here," she demanded and threw back her blankets.

Emma gratefully accepted the offer and slid next to her.

"You are crazy, you know that," Regina tsked, pulling her close to her, and rubbing her back vigorously. "And I have no clue in the slightest how you can orgasm while freezing half to death!"

Emma gave a lazy smile and snuggled closer. "Mind over matter," she grinned, pushing her cold nose into Regina's neck. "And trust me, my mind is plenty overheated right now."

"Mmm," the brunette smiled in spite of herself.

Emma was indeed warming up exceedingly fast and showing absolutely no signs of discomfort.

Quite the opposite, in fact, if the neck nuzzling and almost feline purring were anything to go by.

"So my idea worked then?" Emma finally asked when she had cocooned herself happily against Regina. It was a redundant question. Regina knew there had been no hiding her completely earth-shattering orgasm.

"I think you know," Regina said and poked Emma's ribs, trying not to feel embarrassed.

Emma grinned unrepentantly. "I am really, really glad Regina. And I loved watching you come."

Regina rolled her eyes.

"God you are so fucking hot," Emma continued. "The way you moaned and lifted up your hips and swore at the heavens like a fucking sailor…"

"I did no such thing!"

"Oh you most certainly did. Just before you had lift off. Shit! I almost came from hearing you."

Regina flushed darkly, pleased the night hid it, and growled: "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

Emma grinned. "Right, so next time we'll iron out some of the kinks so I don't risk hypothermia, but I have to say you were amazing."

Regina quirked an eyebrow cockily. "Next time?"

Emma stopped gloating immediately and sat up. The blanket fell from her bare shoulder but she didn't seem to notice. "There will be one, won't there?" she asked worriedly.

Regina silently watched, to her dissatisfaction, how quickly the fears and insecurities seemed to bubble up inside the other woman. "Plenty of next times," she agreed swiftly, and shifted the blanket back up to cover Emma's shoulder.

"Good," Emma said softly, and lowered herself back to the mattress. She slid a hand back over Regina's waist and removed any space between them. "I think that is … shit, yeah. Really good."

"So eloquent."

Emma snorted.

"And dignified, dear." Amusement danced in Regina's eyes and voice.

"And all yours," Emma answered sleepily, hunkering down for the night. "Don't forget you wanted this. Me."

"Indeed," Regina agreed quietly. "All mine."


	50. Chapter 50

**The Staircase**  
**By Red Charcoal**

**CHAPTER 50: BRUSHING AGAINST THE STARS**

They woke in the tent, side by side, coccooned comfortably in separate sleeping bags.

Emma yawned and rubbed her eyes, vaguely remembering in the middle of the night waking up freezing cold and finding Regina shivering faintly against her. She had felt foolish they hadn't moved "inside" hours before and she bundled up the mayor in blankets and pointed her into the tent. Then the blonde did a streak moments later, throwing herself into the fat, downy sleeping bag, moaning loudly in relief the second toasty warmth saturated her body.

"You left your clothes outside," was Regina's only wry comment as she zipped up her bag firmly. The mayor at least had the presence of mind to rescue her pants and her tee-shirt and was now clad and cosy.

"I'm not going back for them," Emma muttered tiredly. She briefly wondered if she should suggest they join their two bags. Before she could formulate the right words, she felt a heaviness weigh down her eyelids.

They were both back asleep in no time.

The morning sun was creeping over the trees, lighting up the tent in a filtered, dappled yellow. Emma shifted to look at the woman in the sleeping bag beside hers. Her hair was mussed and her face unlined without worries, regrets or memories, an arm crooked underneath her head. Her pillow had wound up a few feet away, discarded in the night. Regina looked years younger - and seemed completely, captivatingly radiant.

For a minute Emma just stared, unblinking, barely breathing. She couldn't resist leaning over and nudging an errant sweep of brunette hair out of tightly shut eyes.

She let her hand flatten and faintly stroked the side of the brunette's face. _So soft._ She sighed. She rolled fully onto her side and kissed the brunette's cheek, lips lingering.

"Miss Swan, that had better be you," a voice said thickly, dripping with amusement.

Emma smirked. "You need to ask? Were you expecting someone else?"

Regina fluttered her eyes open. "Can't say that I was." She flashed white even teeth. "Now are you going to keep me waiting or will you give me a more adventurous good morning kiss? I may be ensconced in Boy Scout bedding, but I'd rather not do 'chaste' at my age."

Emma laughed, leaned forward and softly said, "By all means, Madame Mayor. No chaste." She kissed her gently, then slid just the tip of her tongue along the mayor's lips playfully.

Regina's eyes sparked and narrowed at the tease and darted across to stare at Emma. Halfway out of her sleeping bag in order to lean over to Regina's face, Emma was only too aware she was naked. She glanced down. And her bare breasts had somehow slid into view like a store window display. She couldn't bring herself to feel embarrassed and offered her best sexy grin.

The mayor sucked in a deep breath.

"Like what you see, Regina?" Emma asked innocently.

The mayor licked her lips. She looked back at Emma and the want written over her face was all the answer the blonde needed.

Emma slowly, achingly slowly, unzipped the side of her bag and lay on her back. She curled the top of the padded bag up, just a little, exposing a long but narrow side length of calf, thigh, hip, and arm. Bare and teasing - ready for closer inspection. She waited, heart pounding.

Regina stared, eyes darkening, raking the thin expanse of skin.

Then she unzipped her own bag, too.

For a moment neither woman spoke.

Suddenly there was a flurry of movement. Regina apparently was sliding off her pants, which, after a moment, impatiently flew out of the sleeping bag in a black blur. Next, lace dark panties arced across the tent, too. Emma swallowed convulsively as she identified what they were. A designer tee-shirt finally followed. Eyes swivelled to look at the blonde.

Emma gulped and quietly tried to process the fact that the object of her dreams, desires, love and occasionally anguish was now completely naked, one foot away from her.

"Emma?" came a low growl, much huskier than she'd ever heard the mayor's voice before. "Come here."

The blonde didn't need to be asked twice. She flung back the cover of her own bag and slid over, edging her bare body on top of Regina's. It was a tight-ish fit. And hot. _Very, very hot._

They both slowly began a gentle pulsing rhythm, and slid skin against skin, as Emma dropped kisses down Regina's throat. She nuzzled behind her ear and smiled into her shoulder when the brunette gave a small, surprised gasp and arched.

Regina paused, lifting a flat hand to Emma's shoulder. Emma merely nibbled lower.

"Ground rules," the mayor whispered urgently, her voice hitching as she eyed Emma's dedicated explorations. "Please, no, ah, _oooh there_, going inside. For now. Until we - you know, sort out this, ah, situation, _God!_ But outside is f-fine."

Emma nodded into her chest and latched on to a nipple. "Mmm," Emma agreed. "I'll say. Outside is _very, very_ fine."

"I also very much want to taste you," Regina added and her voice was weird. Emma froze from her ardent nipple worship and glanced up to discover a face flushing furiously, embarrassment clearly warring with desire. "I understand if..." Regina hesitated. "If you cannot return the favour given the circumstances but that's OK," she said, rushing on, shutting her eyes briefly before continuing. "I mean it's not, er, _necessary_. For me. Today."

Emma blinked down at Regina, wondering when she had ever seen her look quite so embarrassed.

This stuff was hard. Hard to talk about. Emma didn't want to, but Regina was right. Yet again the brave one, Emma mused. She watched Regina's brown eyes boring through her, as if pleading for her to say something. Anything.

The blonde nodded and dropped a kiss back on tan skin. "Sounds like a plan," she said as quietly and matter of factly as she could manage. No need to make it any more awkward than it already was. She gave her a small smile and peppered her breasts with distracting kisses. "But I want you to know I intend to work long and hard on being able to 'return the favour' at some point. Because I want you to see stars on that day when I bury myself between your legs."

There was no doubting the effect Emma's words had as Regina bucked instantly against her, hard, gasping out a shocked "Oh god, Emma!"

Emma gave a feral grin, and her hand snaked down. Lower. She threaded fingers in cropped curls, already soaked with wetness, swollen and so, so ready. Her fingers danced down to Regina's clit and began to swirl lightly, providing more pressure as moisture immediately slicked her fingers. She was careful to brush Regina's entrance but not go inside, as she had asked. Just the faint brushes made Regina moan and twitch, wriggling impatiently. Emma watched her face, the emotions flitting past - longing, lust, hunger, desire, delight - and felt herself amazed she was doing this. Creating that expression. She skidded her fingers back up to the brunette's clit, rubbing in tight circles, and then leaned forward, latching her lips on a nipple, laving it fiercely with her tongue.

Regina's head snapped back and she bared her teeth, eyes flashing wildly as if unable to quite comprehend how much pleasure she was experiencing. "Emma," was all she hissed, in a low voice.

Her thighs tensed and un-tensed, her breathing became deeper and more ragged. And suddenly all of her body went taut. Regina's moan was long, deep, and loud and Emma dropped her head against her chest, hearing the thundering of the mayor's powerful heart, never for a moment slowing the fingers pleasuring her.

The twitching subsided and Regina slowly lifted her head again and eyed Emma. "Stop now, dear," she said breathily. "I think two orgasms in two days after such a long drought is something of a shock to my system."

Emma watched her with a lazy smile, unbelievably pleased by how satisfied and thoroughly, delightfully fucked the other woman looked. She brought her glistening fingers up to her mouth, green eyes focused on Regina.

The mayor caught her wrist in trembling fingers before Emma's lips made contact. "No," she whispered urgently. "Remember?"

Emma felt the memory crash around her, like a bullet tearing through flesh, and gasped in what almost felt like pain, wrenching her hand from Regina's grip in dismay. She turned away, onto her side, her back to Regina. All joy erased from her in a split second. "God. I... Thanks. F-forgot."

Strong arms pulled her back against Regina's body, stroking her reassuringly. "Hey, sssh, it's OK. It's easy to forget. In fact I hope one day we will completely forget..." She didn't finish the thought.

She didn't have to.

Emma felt hands smoothing across her back and snaking under her arm to cup her breasts. Nimble fingers sought out her nipple and Emma found herself surprised to feel a lurch in her lower abdomen as she felt the tentative touch.

"Would you like me to continue?" asked the sultry voice rumbling against her back.

Emma bit her lip and her hand came up to press Regina's hard against her breast. "Yes."

Regina pulled her over and then flung off the sleeping bag top cover. She sensuously straddled Emma's hips, a small knowing smile watching her as she did so, her dark triangle rubbing against Emma's. She looked down at her imperiously. Like a queen, Emma thought fleetingly, gazing up in wonder. The wetness of their centres mingled and the blonde moaned. _A queen with sublime, erotic skills._

"Ohhh," she whispered when Regina wiggled her hips again and offered a thoroughly naughty smile.

"You like that, dear?" she asked rhetorically and then leaned forward, capturing Emma's lips in her own, plundering her, her tongue sending sparks throughout the blonde's body. All the while Regina rubbed and rocked against her, her slick, heated wetness sliding over Emma's.

"Gah," was all Emma could think to say, her brain fusing stupidly when Regina finally paused from kissing her. Her addled reply seemed to please the mayor whose eyes danced in amusement, and earned Emma another grinding against her overheated groin.

"I said before that I want to taste you," Regina said, eyes glittering. "I meant it. If you're agreeable of course." She added the latter with a challenging voice, dripping with sultry dark promises.

Emma's chest rose and fell sharply as she sucked in a breath and tried to imagine it. Those ruby red lips parted briefly above her and Emma felt like she was about to explode at the mere idea of where else they soon might be positioned.

"Yes," she groaned. "God, yes. Do it. Take me."

Regina Mills was kissing her way down Emma's body before the blonde could even process it. She blinked as her hips felt kisses. Then her belly button was ringed in a dash of impertinent pink tongue. Faint stretchmarks - Henry - were licked in an oh-so-reverent swipe and Emma had no doubt Regina had figured out where they came from.

Her tongue and fingers meandered further south. Emma's legs were pushed wide apart, far wider than she ever would open them herself. She heard a sharp intake of breath and glanced down to see the brunette's entranced look, examining her with eyes burning darkly, lips parting slightly, moments before she dipped her head.

And then she felt it. A wet tongue bisecting her drenched folds, then sliding from her base up to her clit. Then down again. Emma almost howled. She bucked and a hand flew out, anchoring itself in brown hair, threading, kneading, massaging, part benediction, holding her against her, whimpering. _Regina Mills was licking her._ Emma felt she might come from thought alone.

Regina was having none of that. She controlled Emma's mounting arousal with a confidence that took Emma's breath away. Regina licked and swiped, urging trembles and moans from her, scooping up her liquid on her tongue and spreading it over her folds. She took her to the brink several times. And each time Emma announced she was on the edge and "ohgodohgodohgod", she would hear a deliciously wicked chuckle against her most intimate skin and firm, seductive words, declaring "Not yet, dear."

Emma knew she was barely remembering to breathe by the time she felt two fingers edge inside her and wiggle. Her senses had switched off sometime between Regina humming against her tender flesh and groaning into her as she licked as though she was indulging in a deliciously sinful chocolate treat.

Emma's thighs were shaking now, her gasping a halting background thrum, offset by the embarrassingly wet noises emerging from between her legs that would make her blush if only they weren't so fucking hot. And being made by Regina.

Ohgodohgodohgod, her mind screamed again, or was it her mouth? Did she say that out loud? She lost track. And then Regina sucked hard on her clit and twisted her fingers further, deeper and, oh fuck, up right there, and blew against her fevered heat. Then she was whispering, "Now Emma, come for me now, I want to see you come. Show me everything."

It was too much. The tremors turned into an earthquake and her orgasm shook her like a worthless rag doll. Her back arched. Her hands flew from Regina's soft hair to her own achingly hard nipples to finally cover her face. But a hand immediately lifted and gently pulled her fingers away with a soft "No, dear, I want to see."

Emma let them drop and opened her eyes and locked onto brown depths as the ecstasy, relief and ... something much deeper, more primal and connected ... rolled over her, in wave after wave.

Regina held on, watching closely, her half-lidded expression seemed to be of barely contained wonder and awe. Then she lowered her head and returned to licking contentedly, drawing out the last of the trembles, but never once took her eyes off Emma's.

"Enough," the blonde begged weakly when her sensitive folds protested.

She felt the smile before she saw it, as Regina sat up, her chest red from exertion, supple breasts swaying. Her hair was everywhere. She wiped the wet smear off her chin and licked her fingers like a cat which had the cream. She was a vision and Emma's heart clenched.

"God," she husked, her eyes wide. She gazed at her. "You're..."

"Yes, dear?"

Emma shook her head. Pointless to put into words. How could she? She sighed and fell silent.

"I had always wondered," Regina broke the quiet, her voice a faint husk, as though she had been the one coming apart at the seams.

"Hmm?" Emma propped herself up on an elbow.

"There are stories I've read of what people in love experience when making love with the objects of their desire," Regina began, before a shadow crossed her face. "I have never been ... involved - sexually to be precise - with anyone who loved me before," she said. She looked away for a moment, a bleakness settling in. Then she resumed haltingly. "I-I wanted to know if the stories were true. About the transcendence of the experience."

Emma exhaled harshly as she heard the sadness and longing in Regina's words. _No one had ever made love to Regina? Was everyone in her life a blind, stupid fool?_

She would ask her about her sadness later.

"So?" Emma asked, curious. "What did you see? When you made the woman who loves you come so hard she can barely see straight." She offered a cheeky grin.

"The stories are true," Regina said reverently. "This is why people spend their lives pursuing love. Why they fight for it. I know of love more ... obliquely, you might say. Never in a healthy or fulfilling sense. Your eyes told me everything about you. What you feel. What you want. And why it's all worth it. That's what I saw ... i-in your moment of infinite pleasure. It was inspirational."

Emma swallowed and tried to calm her breathing, which was still ragged from her earth-shattering previous ten minutes.

_Had anyone ever loved her body so well? So perfectly?_ She flopped onto her back and gazed unseeingly up at the white tent ceiling. "You are my entire universe," Emma offered suddenly. "The stars, galaxies. The whole enchilada."

Regina slithered - there was no other word for it - up Emma's body and leaned her head against her chest. "If I am the universe, who are you?"

Emma grinned. "The lost homely girl sitting alone on a hill, staring up in wonder at the vast beauty of the heavens. Regina, you radiate this incredible freaking raw energy, like nothing I have experienced before. It makes me come alive. It burns and I just ... Fuck.

"Next to you I ... Well I am just ... me. Emma Swan. Small. Flawed. Undeserving. Unable to quite believe you would ever let me love you - in every sense of the word. But that's OK. I mean - I'm OK about where I fit in the scheme of the universe, I accept who I am. We can't all be like you. A spectacular galaxy." She smiled reassuringly and brought her arms around Regina to hug her close. "I'm at peace with that. I just feel ... lucky to brush against the stars at all."

She shut her eyes and felt a contented drowsiness. It would be so easy to fall asleep now.

"Homely?" a soft voice asked beside her, contorted in dismay. "Emma, don't you know you're beautiful?"

"Mmm maybe a little," Emma mumbled, sleep rapidly catching her. "Physically anyway, to some men whose heads are easily turned. OK I'm gauche then. Clumsy. Messy. The class and deportment of a charging rhino." Her lips twitched. She faded out and was barely audible when she concluded with a weary yawn. "You know what I mean, Regina. You know where I came from. How my life started out. Disposable. I know I was not worthy then. I know I'm broken now. S'okay, though. It's OK. Really."

She never saw the frown mar the lines of the brunette's face above her, as her eyes fluttered shut. Nor, as she slipped into dreamy unconsciousness, did she see brown eyes watching her face, filled with worry. Or feel the hand trail sorrowfully down her cheek, until it clenched into a quivering fist.

And she never noticed when Regina Mills curled up next to her and let silent tears slip down her face, her trembling fingers stroking Emma's hand.


	51. Chapter 51

**THE STAIRCASE**  
**By Red Charcoal**

**CHAPTER 51: HEAR THE ANGELS SING  
**

The next time they woke up, in a tangle of overheated limbs and softness, Regina felt heavy. Her eyes slipped over the supple body that was wrapped around her and involuntarily remembered every word the blonde had said a few hours ago. Not beautiful. Homely. Not worthy. Broken.

She bit her lip. _What the hell had she done?_

The other woman stirred, fingers and skin shifting against her, sending a bolt of arousal through to her core that she could no more stifle than stop herself breathing. Her intake of breath was duly noted and a lazy smile drifted onto soft lips hovering dangerously close to her own.

"Morning, Regina," she husked and then the lips dropped against her neck.

The mayor's brown eyes followed their trail down and tried not to notice the electricity flooding her nerve endings as Emma nuzzled against her breast.

An odd snort sounded in the distance. Both women's heads shot up in confusion.

Regina was the first to recover, nudging Emma gently in the ribs to get her to roll off.

"Horse," she muttered.

"Huh?"

"It's a horse," she repeated and sat up and looked around. She found her T-shirt quickly enough. Her panties, though - God only knew where they had gotten to. She spied her pants and slid them on. She felt herself being watched and turned and offered a knowing smile.

"Sorry that you didn't bring your clothes inside now?"

"Nah. Just means you'll fetch them for me."

Regina arched an eyebrow but didn't disagree and sat for a moment to slide on her socks.

"I'll be right back, dear." She rose and unzipped the tent flap and looked around.

Sure enough, slowly picking their way up a grassy trail, were a pair of horses, side by side. She squinted at the riders and noted that at least one was wildly out of place. Regina hid her smirk. Like seeing your dentist at a baseball game, she supposed, as she identified Dr Hopper.

The unmistakeable shape of his rugged new husband was beside him, but her attention was focused on her psychiatrist and the nervous way the bespectacled man sat in the saddle.

_So - not a natural horseman then._ She watched for a beat more as they chatted together and realised she hadn't yet been noticed.

She strode over to the air mattress and swiftly gathered a bundle of Emma's clothes and returned to the tent.

"Matt and Archie," she announced.

She dropped the clothes on Emma's bedding, faltering only for a moment when the blonde immediately pushed off the sleeping bag and stood, gloriously naked, to get dressed. Regina drunk in the sight, darkening eyes transfixed, and noted the blonde virtually preening under the attention. She twisted her lips in a small smirk and headed back outside.

The men noticed her this time and, with a look of profound gratefulness, Dr Hopper pulled on his reins and offered a grin.

"Not much for riding, Doctor?" she asked him, watching as he awkwardly ejected himself from the saddle in a semi-controlled fall, under Matt's amused gaze. He looked like an urban cowboy trying far too hard in his new jeans and embroidered apricot shirt.

The other man stayed on his mount for a few more moments before climbing languidly off with an ease born of decades of practice.

"Matt's trying to get me into it," Archie replied, neatly dodging the question. He pushed his glasses further back on his nose.

Regina cocked her head up at the taller man. "And how's that coming along then?" she asked although she could plainly see the answer.

The man mountain smiled agreeably. "Slowly but surely, Mayor Mills." He glanced around, and she followed his eyes which paused on the strewn blankets and cushions of their outdoor bedding.

And then Emma stepped out of the tent, still buckling up her belt. Matt's eyes pointedly met Regina's.

She knew how it looked. She forced any embarrassment from her expression because, for God's sake, they were both adults, both equals, and both deserved ... she frowned at feeling so defensive over it ... _companionship_.

She sighed as her eyes snuck over to Archie and she watched as he drew the same conclusion as his towering spouse.

The doctor's expression was speculative but his sharp eyes seemed a hell of a lot more ... _knowing_ ... than Matt's had. If that was even possible.

"Hey guys," Emma waved and strode over, dodging a stray cushion and Regina's boots, and looking for all the world like the morning after a romantic sleepover in the middle of nowhere was a perfectly ordinary place to bump into acquaintances.

_Friends_, Regina amended. That was a concept she'd still been trying to get her head around of late. She actually had a few of those now, whether she wanted to or not.

"I'd offer you a cup of joe, but we don't have any," the blonde continued cheerfully, apparently oblivious to the weighty silence.

"S'okay," Matt rumbled. "We just had breakfast. We were heading back to the ranch. Gotta get prepped for the weekend."

Regina smiled. "Yes. Well thanks again for doing that," she said and folded her arms across her chest. The cold morning air was starting to bite. She couldn't for the life of her remember where her shirt had ended up. Then she spied it, absurdly hanging from her car's side mirror. _How the hell did it get all the way over there?_ When Archie's gaze intersected hers and clocked it too, she just shook her head warningly.

The man suppressed a smile. She narrowed her eyes at him evilly.

"What's happening on the weekend?" Emma asked blankly.

"Regina didn't mention?" Archie spoke. "We're holding Henry's birthday party at the ranch. Horse riding, lassoing games, and all that stuff for the kids."

"He's excited," Regina said. She paused.

_For the kids._ Henry didn't have that many friends. If the annoyingly-eager-to-intervene Miss Blanchard hadn't suggested throwing it open to his entire class she wondered how many he would have actually asked. One? Not for the first time she worried at how her son could have ended up as isolated as she was. Or rather, had been.

"Sounds great," Emma said, interrupting her spiralling thoughts.

"So you'll be there?" Archie asked keenly and tilted his head in a way Regina recognised all too well. _Doctor mode._ She'd have objected if it hadn't been for what he said next. "I mean weren't you leaving us a few days back? And yet here you are."

He smiled then, widely, to take the sting out, and waited. All eyes swung to Emma.

The blonde rammed fists into her jeans pockets and moved her weight to her other foot. "That was then," she mumbled and nudged the ground with a black socked toe. She gave him a sharp glance, as if not appreciating being put on the spot. "Things can change," she added uncomfortably.

Regina felt all eyes swing back to her. She sighed inwardly and felt unwilling to reward the curious stares with any reaction. Her feelings weren't anyone's business anyway. Well, no one's except Emma's.

She tried not to notice her heart rate had suddenly picked up pace as a single thought tumbled through her mind: _Was Emma staying now?_ With a huge force of effort she shut down that train of thought for later dissection and affected her most neutral expression.

The horse Archie had rode in on shifted noisily behind her and Regina moved her eyes over to it, grateful for the distraction. Then her whole face lit up in recognition.

_Oh!_

She walked quickly over and gently stroked its mane. "Peppermint," she said quietly and beamed. "Hello old friend."

Her soft words seemed to break the odd, strained impasse and Matt cleared his throat. He ambled over to Emma and began a genial conversation. Regina could hear them talking in the background as she bent over and stroked the familiar horse's head. The smell of sweat, leather and oats seemed comforting - familiar - and she trailed her fingers through the coarse mane methodically.

"What are you doin' out here, Matt? Hell, we're miles from anywhere!" Emma asked and thumped his bulging bicep with the back of her hand.

"Actually you're on the north-eastern tip of the stables' property," the large man said with a chuckle and folded his arms across his barrel chest, stretching his blue flannel shirt even tighter, testing the seams. "We're cutting through on the way back from my shack."

"This is YOUR land?"

"Yep. You're camped out in Willow Circle."

"Huh. I had no idea this place had an actual name. Shit."

Regina rolled her eyes as she stroked Peppermint's neck. Only Emma could find a way to work a profanity into any topic. Even place names. A shadow fell across her and she smelt a very familiar aftershave.

_Figures_. She sighed. That man was far too perceptive.

"Yeap," Matt continued in the background. "But have you found Willow Creek yet? You'd love it. It's beautiful. Has these smooth riverbed pebbles in all different colours." When she shook her head, he added: "It's not far."

His eyes flicked over to Archie's and regarded his new spouse for a moment. The men's eyes met.

"Walk with me and I'll show yer right now," Matt told Emma, turning back to her.

"Regina?" Emma asked.

"Hmmm?" The brunette looked up from Peppermint and found keen green eyes fixed on hers.

"Wanna go check out this rainbow rock creek with us?"

Regina's lips curved slightly at her enthusiasm. "You go, I think I'll stay and catch up with Peppermint. I haven't seen her in ages."

Emma gave her sideways grin. "Your loss. Archie?"

"Need to get my land legs back, so no. I'll take a well-earned break." He gave a self-deprecating chuckle and waved them off.

Archie and Regina didn't speak for a while, watching their respective partners stride off discussing the scenery around them animatedly.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Archie asked quietly. His eyes flickered across to the bedding. "Although I could probably make an educated guess."

Regina snorted mirthlessly. "Such arrogance, dear. What on earth makes you think I wanted to talk?"

She walked a few paces and snatched her shirt off the Merc's side mirror and then turned towards the now largely deflated air mattress and sat. She put on her now very rumpled shirt, buttoning it methodically over her T-shirt, and waited.

Archie settled down next to her, and perched, absurdly, on an overstuffed green cushion.

"I like to think I know you quite well by now." He regarded her and plastered on his best listening face. It was utterly maddening and Regina had a brief urge to bare her teeth and say something inappropriate. Instead she settled for an unimpressed growl.

"And how did your beloved spouse know I wanted to talk to you, too?"

"He knows ME quite well by now also." He grinned.

Regina pursed her lips, annoyed at all the presumptions but she couldn't bring herself to outright complain. She _did_ need advice. And here Archie was. She shifted listlessly and couldn't think how to start.

"How was the honeymoon?" Regina stalled, using her blandest tone. She couldn't sound less interested.

Archie looked at her in surprise. "_Really?_" Then his eyes twinkled as it dawned on her what she'd just asked. It's not like Matt and Archie had had much else to do, beyond the glaringly obvious, when they'd headed for their far flung honeymoon shack.

"No." She pressed her lips together firmly. "You're right. Moving right along." She couldn't hide her eyes dancing in amusement, though.

"So then?" Archie asked quietly.

Regina rubbed her forearms to get circulation back in them.

"You told me once that Emma and I were a ... bad idea," Regina began haltingly. "You said we should not get together." She glared at him as though the conversation of so long ago still burned. And, if she was brutally honest, it did. His warning still worried her.

"That was when you weren't ready," Archie corrected her. He spread his hands out. "You weren't healed even remotely well enough to be good for each other. Now you are much improved."

Regina sighed. "Now _I_ am."

"Regina?"

The brunette leaned her head onto the heels of her hands and pressed hard. "I'm ... concerned," she began tightly.

* * *

The ride home in Regina's Mercedes was quiet. Something had happened at the campsite while the blonde had been strolling around with Matt but Emma couldn't figure out what.

She had tried a few jokes, albeit lame as per usual, and received only wan smiles. Regina had flicked her an occasional sad glance, and it was so out of place on the "new improved" mayor she didn't know what to make of it.

After a quarter of an hour with nothing but the hum of the motor - Regina had switched off the radio pointedly when Emma had reached for it - the mayor cleared her throat.

"Archie has offered to do some sessions with you."

Emma snapped her head to the left so fast she almost gave herself whiplash.

"What? Why?"

"You said yourself you still feel broken. He helped me. He wants to help you. Obviously it's up to you."

The words were bleached of emotion. Almost bland.

Tan fingers on the steering wheel tightened, however, and Emma watched curiously as the knuckles turned white. Regina seemed, by sheer force of finger pressure, to be trying to compel herself not to say anything more.

"Then I choose no," Emma said carefully.

Silence fell in the car for five more minutes before Regina spoke again. One word, wrenched from her throat.

"Why?"

Emma turned to look at the mayor's profile, admiring the way her dark brown hair kinked as it hit her shoulders, the softness of skin at her neck. She liked that neck very much.

"Emma?" The voice was softer this time, but still strained.

_Oh. Right._

"I don't do so well at that stuff. Talking. About me. Best to let sleeping dogs lie. Or die."

"How's that working out for you then?" A hint of Regina 1.0 lurked in that dry sarcasm and Emma felt her indignation rise.

She'd been through enough nosy social workers and case workers while going in and out foster homes. All pretending to give a shit, none really helping her when she needed it in any practical, real way. Just scribbling their snooty notes. Notes they never shared. Like they were stealing chunks of her soul, one paragraph at a time.

"I thought you said this was up to me?" she challenged.

"It is. But I also want you to feel ... happy.''

"The way _you_ are?"

Regina's lips tightened. "What do you mean?"

"You're not happy. I see sad eyes looking at me. Right now."

"How do you know they're not sad because I wish I could help you? Because I want you to be happier?"

"You just admitted they're sad."

Silence.

"I suppose I did." Regina shrugged. It did not come off as a lighthearted gesture. It was stiff. Awkward. "We can all be better than we are. I sometimes wish I had made different choices. I'm sure you're the same."

Emma leaned against the car window and stared out. "Was that a dig about the staircase?" she asked flatly. "About that fucked-up day? About all the bad choices I made then and since?"

Regina hit the brakes suddenly. The screech of tires filled their ears.

Emma's eyes blinked open wide and glanced around the car now stopped cold in the middle of a dirt road. The engine shuddered to a halt.

She shifted her eyes worriedly over to the brunette who seemed to be breathing quickly and blinking angrily at the road in front of her.

Finally Regina slowly turned and stared into her face, brown eyes flashing with an emotion Emma could not identify. "No," she ground out. "It was not. Not everything comes back to that. I want you to listen closely, dear."

The mayor paused and inhaled sharply. "I have moved on - as much as I can at least. But I have. And, Emma, it's time you did, too."

For a moment they just stared at each other. Emma felt herself swallow. _Easy for you to say_, she thought churlishly before she remembered exactly what nightmares - literally - she had put the other woman through. She ground her molars, appalled at herself. _No, not easy for her at all._ She felt ashamed and looked at her hands, twisting viciously in her lap. She anxiously wet her lips.

She couldn't do counseling. She shuddered at the thought.

_No freaking way. Right? Hell to the no._

The brunette frowned and then looked away, restarting the engine and pulled away. Darkness seemed to settle over her and Emma wished she knew why. Wished she could magically spirit it away. Wave her hands and say just the right words.

"I love you Regina," Emma found herself offering to the air between them.

Huh. She puzzled at what she'd just said. She had slid it out there like some sort of salve.

She'd told Regina she loved her before, but it was like a ballistic missile she'd fired at her to explain how angry she'd been that she couldn't rid Regina from her system. She'd also once told her she loved her in an especially shaky display of emotion, when at her lowest ebb. As if to punctuate her own risible patheticness.

And now she was telling her again, not over flowers and romantic dinners while holding her hand and gazing into her eyes like a beautiful woman deserved. No, Emma did it in a car hurtling back to Storybrooke, and only then to soften the sadness she saw in the eyes of the brunette every time Regina looked at her.

Emma briefly considered whether she even knew how to express declarations of love in a normal way.

The stab of shame returned as she acknowledged the mess she was. The mess she kept making of things. As she worried her bottom lip with her teeth she wondered now at the effect the words would have. If at all.

The mayor squeezed her eyes shut briefly. Her hand quickly flicked away something near her eye and returned to the steering wheel.

"Regina?"

She shook her head and stomped the gas pedal. Minutes ticked by. Emma stared at her in consternation.

The mayor eventually flicked a glance at her. "Are you staying then?" She asked flatly. "Seeing you love me and all, dear?"

_Ah. Touche._

"I told Henry I'd stay for his birthday." Emma spoke absently and turned to stare out the window again.

"After the party is what I meant. As you well know."

"You want me to?"

Regina sighed. "You really have to ask that?"

"Yeah. I do. I really do." Emma held her breath. It's not like Regina Mills had ever once uttered those three words back to her.

Regina's mouth pulled downwards. Her expression grew tight. "I want you to stay. You mean ... so much."

"To Henry." Emma whispered hoarsely.

"Yes."

The car noise changed as they turned from the wild dirt road on to ordered bitumen, close to Storybrooke's outskirts now. Emma watched the world whizzing by but barely saw it. She frowned and folded her arms around her ribs, her mood as bleak as she had ever felt.

"And to me," the mayor softly added.

Emma felt her heart lift. "What?"

"Don't make me say it again." The corners of the mayor's mouth moved just enough.

Emma suddenly grinned widely.

"Well why the hell didn't you just say that in the first place? Hell, Regina. Everything's always a mystery with you!"

The mayor said nothing, but didn't appear to disagree.

Emma put a hand on the delicate wrist which rested on the gear stick. "Yeah," she repeated. "If you want me, I'm staying."

Seconds ticked by. Regina leaned forward and turned the radio on at last. The car came alive with a full symphony orchestra. A soprano started up. Like angels singing.

"Then you're staying," the brunette agreed and her lips twitched again. It wasn't like a smile that lit the car or anything so showy. _Heaven forbid._ But Emma could see the telltale curve at the edges of her mouth and the way her eyes had just brightened immeasurably.

_Oh yeah._ Fuck it.

She was staying.


	52. Chapter 52

**THE STAIRCASE  
By Red Charcoal**

**CHAPTER 52: FEET TO THE FIRE**

Regina strode into her mayor's office, briefcase in hand, her stride sharp. Controlled. It belied the roiling emotions going on under her cool features. She nodded to her secretary who handed her a sheaf of brightly coloured messages, banking up from several days of her playing hooky with Emma.

She smiled in spite of herself at the thought and her mood improved as she remembered waking in Emma's arms yesterday. And this morning.

Now _that_ had been incredible. The memory surged through her and she willed her face not to blush. She glanced at her secretary to make sure she hadn't noticed. If she had, she wasn't letting on. _Smart girl._

She wondered if she could invent a reason for the blonde to come by her office today. Her walk took on a jaunty swish as she considered her options, dropping the pile of messages on her desk and settling into her power chair. She rolled herself forward to the table. She was certain Emma would race over if she told her that she needed ...

"Well, well, look who's showed up for work today."

Regina's eyes sprang wide open and she started suddenly, her hands flying out to grab her desk in shock. She quickly schooled her features but knew her moment of weakness had been noted with amusement.

She scowled and raked burning eyes over the intruder.

Slowly, like a slithering snake, Mr Gold emerged from the room's shadows behind the door and limped towards her. Taking all the time in the world.

"I was wondering if you'd left us, Madame Mayor," he said with an oily grin. "Not that you aren't due another little holiday."

"What do you want, Gold," Regina started and injected a weary sigh into her words, masking her discomfort. _Just what she didn't need. Gold in the mix. Why wasn't he still busy with that doting girl she'd dropped in his lap?  
_

He didn't respond at first, just lowered himself into a chair across from hers and examined her closely, like a scientist would a specimen.

"Well?" she asked impatiently. She indicated her pile of messages. "As you can see I'm really quite busy."

"I'm here, Madame Mayor," he began with a purr, "because I fear you might be reneging on our little deal."

Regina frowned, quickly working her way down a mental list of every sordid little arrangement she'd ever had with the maddening man.

She shook her head. "What on earth are you talking about?" she asked. "And you well know I do not go back on my deals."

He eyed her thoughtfully and drummed his fingers against the bronze handle of the walking stick he was clutching between his knees. It was gleaming. Like his eyes.

"It's really very simple, Madame Mayor. You promised not to interfere in love taking its course in Storybrooke - not for any of the three pivotal lovestruck couples who might be ... significant."

Regina stared at him for a beat. "Significant because ..." She dared him to lay out his cards, and arched an eyebrow cockily.

"Because their love could mean an end to a certain arrangement that was put into place three decades ago." He compressed his lips. "As you well know." He appeared unimpressed at having to recap ancient history.

"I fail to see how I have broken your deal," Regina said in confusion. "The two princesses and the cricket and their respective loves have all been left in peace to ..." she flicked her hand airily, "fulfill their Hallmark card fantasies. I may have even helped some of them out. I pushed through the paperwork that allowed that stock boy of Kathryn's to become a gym teacher because it was apparently his fondest wish. And I may yet be maid of honour at the couple's nuptials." She waved her arm at the absurdity. "How is that being obstructionist? For God's sake, I even did the speeches at Hopper's wedding!"

"The cricket?" Gold leaned back and laughed. It was a short ugly bark, entirely too mocking. It set Regina's teeth on edge and she narrowed her eyes.

He leaned forward, his tone low so as not to be heard beyond two feet away, and hissed, "You really think the insignificant cricket and his fake-warrior farm boy could ever be pivotal in anything? Let alone ending the world's darkest curse?"

Regina blinked uncertainly. _Oh_. It was true Gold never had told her who the third couple was. She'd simply guessed. The timing had been right and there was little doubt the love the two men shared. But ... he had a point.

"Then who?" she demanded. "Gold - I have interfered in NO ONE'S romantic lives since we agreed I wouldn't. In case it has slipped your keen notice, attacks of true love are breaking out all over Storybrooke. It's almost obscene how saccharine this place is becoming. We have three florists now, instead of one. And a gift basket shop with noxiously cute stuffed bears that's doing a roaring trade."

Gold thrummed his cane with his fingers and looked at her impatiently.

"You HAVE most certainly been interfering in one couple's love life. And you have been at it for a rather long time."

He looked at her pointedly - daring her to work out his puzzle - and offered another slimy smile.

"Whose?'' Regina snapped, tired of the games. Tired of his creepy ways. Tired of all of it. She could be back in bed with Emma who had mumble-protested her departure this morning with a slide of exploring warm fingers and pleading eyes. It had been ridiculously hard to slide out of that softness and face her working day.

She cleared the image from her mind and focused, repeating: "Whose love life is so important, apparently so, so pivotal to the town - yet I cannot even remember interfering with it?"

Gold laughed in her face. His voice dropped another octave.

"Your own."

The wind was completely sucked out of her sails and Regina sagged against her chair. "What?!"

"Yours and Miss Swan's," he said slowly, as though addressing an especially dim child. "I have long suspected the reason the two princesses and their true-love beaus were doing little to break the curse was that it was never about them. But you, on the other hand - why, the curse is all about you and the daughter of true love, is it not? That makes much more sense. I don't need a seer to tell me that. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Gold," she said weakly. "You don't even know this for sure..."

Something strange and dark flickered across his eyes for a moment before being replaced with his usual intractable confidence. "Perhaps," he conceded. He was so slippery. For all she knew he did know it for a fact.

"Let's say I suspect very strongly," he said. "But, you, my dear, have been holding out on me and your lovely Miss Swan."

Regina ground her teeth that anyone would dare comment on Emma or their love life. But for this, this flesh-crawling _imp_ to be the one to do so... She shook her head and growled at him. "I have no idea what you think you know but you're very wrong. You don't know what you're talking about."

He offered a teasing smile. "Don't I? Everyone saw how you two danced together at Grigor the Impaler's wedding to his cricket. Miss Swan clearly loves you, dearie. That was written all over her face. The way she looked at you. Trembled when you held her. And you, well, you weren't very subtle either, were you? How many times have you ever danced with anyone in this town? And to come out in such bold style! Well! It must be love. I thought smelling salts might be required for half the attendees. Especially your little boy who was particularly astute in understanding what was in front of his nose."

Regina's eyes flashed dangerously. "Leave Henry out of this.''

"I'm merely saying that there's no need to play coy anymore," he said. He was mocking her now. His voice was like a vicious stroke of fingernails down a chalkboard. "You love her, she loves you. There was even a little romantic getaway yesterday if Miss Lucas's thinly veiled clues at the diner this morning were anything to go by... and yet here we are. Here. Still HERE."

He thumped his walking stick loudly on the floor and looked around at the gleaming office and frowned. "Care to tell me why that is? Why you may have failed to express three tiny little words to her, as per our agreement, and thus keeping us in this magic-less suburban hellhole?"

"I never agreed to that," Regina spat back. "Never agreed to tell anyone I loved them."

"Oh but you did. You agreed not to 'impede love'," he reiterated almost boredly. "And you are most definitely impeding it. And we both know why."

Regina swallowed and looked away. He was right, of course, not that she'd ever admit it. The mayor knew that the very moment she looked into trusting green eyes and uttered those three crucial words, sealing them with a kiss, that would probably be it. Her world would end - in every sense.

She had never considered that her falling in love would be the key to the curse ending until it was too late and she'd actually fallen in love. And then she'd realised it in one awful moment and her heart had almost seized in horror.

She now knew why Gold had never before even so much as hinted at this being the truth. After all, if he'd made even the slightest suggestion that her being in love would unleash the curse breaking, would she have ever pursued romance with anyone?

No.

_Hell no._

And so here she was. In love, brutally, powerfully, passionately in love - and unable to ever say the words. She had known it before their night together - a night that was all the more bitter sweet for the knowledge.

And then had come the little pep talk with Archie that had rocked her to the core.

"People with low self esteems need plenty of positive reinforcement," Archie had begun in an almost scholarly fashion, wiping his glasses and perching them back on his nose. "Some counseling will likely help and I would be happy to assist - assuming Emma's willing. But I can only go so far when it's not me she loves and whose attention she craves. So by all means tell her she's beautiful and wonderful and so forth, but it's most important to tell her often that she is _loved_.

He had stopped and tilted his head. "It's everything."

She had gazed at him stupidly for a moment and then had vigorously shaken her head as she muttered "impossible''.

His expression evolved rapidly through surprise, dismay, then to a frown.

"Why would you deny Emma this?" he'd asked in genuine dismay. "Don't you trust that she loves you?"

"I believe she does."

"Do you doubt your own feelings?"

She shook her head.

"Then why - especially if it can't possibly hurt? It could even help her so much. To love and be loved back by another person who willingly chooses to do so is all anyone truly wants in life."

She had leaped to her feet in agitation and stalked away then, needing the distance, hating herself. Hating him. Hating her back being against the wall.

Her options were awful. Help Emma find her own self worth, affirm their love, and in so doing tear down everything she'd built in their new world. Probably also get herself killed in the process. Watch Emma and Henry look at her with hatred and disgust. They might even light the pyre themselves. She hoped not. But maybe.

She swallowed.

Don't help her, and watch Emma fade away, believing herself to be unloved. Unworthy. Valueless. Nothing. But they'd all be alive. Storybrooke would live. And Regina wouldn't ever have to be _Her_ again.

_So then... it was an obvious choice.  
_

"I just can't." She'd whispered her decision aloud to herself, firmly, but knew as she turned and saw from Hopper's look that he'd heard it, too.

His sadness settled over her like a shroud and he stared at her, out of words. She stared back.

They hadn't spoken for the rest of their time together and were sitting there still and silent when Emma and Matt returned.

She hadn't felt right for hours afterwards. She still didn't.

* * *

Gold cleared his throat. "So - our deal. You will tell her. End this."

"Or what?" Regina demanded. "And a better question is _why_. You never did tell me why you want the curse over so much. Do you miss glittery skin and outlandish outfits so much? Everyone falling at your feet whimpering 'Oh no, The Dark One, run, hide, tremble!'."

He slammed his walking stick sharply on the table and swiped her papers to the floor. His mask had dropped and she could see he was angry now. She couldn't recall seeing him this enraged ever before. She felt a shiver skitter up her spine.

"Tell Swan or I will." He articulated the words precisely, ignoring her other question. "And if _I_ do it, I won't be so sweet and romantic about it. Then she'll come running to you demanding to know exactly what I meant and you'll have to admit it all anyway. Or else say it's just a silly lie and watch her face as it crumples while you tell her you never loved her, you couldn't, and you never will.

"Then you'll watch the light go out in her eyes as she realises she is yet again unlovable and unwanted. You know all about that, don't you, my dear? Being unlovable? And then, you'll have a front-row seat to seeing her vitality dim for however long she decides to cling to you, how many weeks or months, hoping, pleading, praying desperately to change your mind or your heart."

He gave a thin cold smile as his voice dropped dangerously low, barely above a whisper.

"And the beautiful irony, dearie, given what happened to your darling Daniel, is you may as well have crushed her precious heart in your hand yourself. While you just stood by and _watched_."

Regina glared at him furiously. "You wouldn't dare tell her!'' she hissed.

"Oh I dare." He leaned even closer now. She could smell him. Spice and dark moss. She could feel his warmth. It was odd, he seemed so lizard-like, but he gave off a powerful fiery heat. "But I am also merciful. I understand your dear baird is having his birthday this weekend. Our children are so important, aren't they? So precious. They are our future after all."

He smirked.

"So I'll give you till the end of young Henry's delightful day. And then, at a time, a day, an opportunity of my choosing after that, I will act. I will hold your feet to the fire. I trust you can stand the heat?"

Another smile, even oilier than his first. He rose.

"Good day, Madame Mayor."

He slowly made his way out of the room, his limp vastly improved now.

She slumped back in her chair.

She shut her eyes. _Oh my God._


	53. Chapter 53

**THE STAIRCASE  
By Red Charcoal**

**CHAPTER 53: I DARE**

Regina Mills liked to win. She had worked hard - and suffered greatly - to get a curse that gave her a second chance. She had also worked hard to get back Emma after she realised life without her was not a life she wanted. Losing was not something she tolerated - not for long at least.

She narrowed her eyes as she thought about the reason she was facing potential defeat now. A man whose Machiavellian schemes had ultimately wrought destruction throughout her life, always under the initial guise of "helping" her. Always making everything seem like her idea.

Until now.

Now he had simply backed her into a corner with threats like a common thug. To say it was out of character was the understatement of the decade. She sipped her latte at her favorite booth in Granny's Diner and considered that. He had been almost desperate in his insistence she "not impede love", even though he had tap-danced around her as he usually did with veiled insults and typical showmanship. But at the core of their conversation had been a desperate hunger, a terrible haste that he could not entirely disguise as much as he tried.

Rumpelstiltskin wanted the curse over, and he wanted it over _now_.

She lowered her cup to the table. What had changed? Why the almighty rush? He had not been terribly forthcoming as per usual.

Well, the man might not be so keen to share, but she knew someone who might. She finished her coffee and left a generous tip, hiding her amusement at the shock on Ruby Lucas's face as she left the diner. It was always fun to keep them on their toes. Just when they thought they knew her. And besides, Emma liked her for some unfathomable reason.

The library was doing a fairly brisk trade when the mayor pulled open its imposing doors. She could see at the rear of the cavernous space an elegantly arranged bank of computers she'd bought for the new reading and browsing area. Residents were certainly availing themselves of the new features.

It had been one of her more inspired ideas. Officially, she told herself, it was to keep the librarian happy. Happy librarian, happy Gold, no menacing imps underfoot causing trouble. And that theory had worked well - until now.

Occasionally, though, she would allow herself to admit she'd actually done it for a very different reason. It had been a barely completed thought, a passing whimsy, that she'd voiced over breakfast one day. One minute she'd been handing Henry his cereal bowl, the next, his entire face had glowed, eyes shining, as though she had come up with something incredible; beyond remarkable. Something he clearly did not think her remotely capable of.

Her lips pressed together. _Well, Evil Queens generally don't install library reading rooms, now do they?_ And so she'd gone ahead with it. That one act of generosity seemed to lead to other civic-minded expansions, and before she knew it the entire face of Storybrooke was changing, with parks and plays and puppet shows.

_Puppet shows, for God's sake._ She shook her head at the memory. Henry had virtually vibrated with delight when she'd run that one by him. But by then she knew she wasn't even doing it to see that look on his small face anymore. She was doing it because it just felt ... good.

She hastily shoved that confronting thought away, not ready to dissect that just yet.

She'd noticed the changes in her constituents, too. Now that had been entirely unexpected. Subtle nods and small smiles, comments and enthusiasm about the changes. Occasional thanks as she passed them on the street.

It had made her ridiculously uncomfortable for a long time. She'd had years of practice in steeling herself against muttered barbs and anonymous slights, so to be stopped to be thanked? It was like enduring a form of post-traumatic stress disorder. Her heart would almost start in alarm at such unwanted, unexpected pleasantries.

Hopper had laughed his ridiculous head off at her when she'd complained about her grateful-constituent stress with a frown.

She'd glowered at him in indignation, seriously peeved she seemed to have lost her ability to inspire fear in the annoying bug at least. In response he'd just suppressed his laughter - more or less - but didn't look even remotely cowed.

She sighed. Times were certainly changing.

Her mother had always said "Make them fear you." It had been the austere, cold woman's only advice on leadership and Regina had never questioned it, particularly when her suddenly acquired minions seemed so fiercely disinclined to love their new queen - and blatantly mourned their old one. Right in front of her.

But now ... now some of them actually seemed to ... _like_ her.

She frowned. _When the hell had that happened?_

The smell of vanilla danced around her nostrils as Regina moved into the old building. The scent was a curious biochemical side effect of having a large receptical of decaying, ancient books gradually breaking down. Her eyes adjusted to the lowered light from desk lamps and she glanced around. Heads bent over desks, reading, paid her no attention. Regina slowly walked the aisles, impressed in spite of herself at the work the young overseer had done.

"Mayor Mills," came a pleasant voice behind her. _Ah, speak of the devil._ "What a pleasant surprise."

_Belle_. Regina arched an eyebrow as she hunted for sarcasm in the woman's greeting. Finding none, she offered her most generous smile.

"Good morning, my dear. Are you well?"

Regina leaned forward, plastered her most fascinated look on her face and waited with interest.

"Why yes, yes, thank you. Mr Gold and, um, everyone have all been looking after me very well."

"You call him Mr Gold?" Regina asked curiously, unable to help herself. "I thought you and he were..."

She faded out, realising that, like asking Archie Hopper about his honeymoon, certain things were definitely of absolutely no interest to her brain. Especially the part of it that enjoyed forming mental pictures.

The young woman smiled and blushed prettily. "He seems to like it when I do. I suspect he enjoys the respect it affords him, so I indulge him. It's a simple thing I can do to make him happy." She waved her hand around the room. "So have you come to see the effect of your office's kind donation? The new area? I could give you the tour."

"By all means, dear."

It was a decidedly short tour. The city hall's resources were well spent, though, and Regina could see Belle had spent the funds she'd provided well.

They wound up towards the rear of the room in the deathly quiet shelves between "Historic Conquests" and "Khan, Genghis". It seemed fitting as the mayor eyed with interest the tomes on domination, battlefield tactics and victory, as she edged closer to the key to fighting her enemy.

For hours Regina had been trying to fathom what had changed in Gold's world to make him suddenly push her to bring the curse to an end. She finally had realised on her walk over that the skilled gatherer of trinkets, artefacts and enchanted amulets may have acquired a new one. Something special that changed the game.

She could, of course, be completely wrong - but it never hurt to ask. In a round about way of course...

"It's so efficient in here," Regina began admiringly. "You have done a wonderful job organising it all - putting order to the chaos."

Wide young eyes brightened. "Thank you, Madame Mayor, it's so kind of you to say."

"Please, dear, you must call me Regina."

"Thank you, Regina."

"I was wondering if Mr Gold ever asked you to use your skills to sort out the chaos in his shop?" She smiled gently to take any sting of criticism out. "After all, your talents are obvious."

"He doesn't like me to mess up his stuff too much, but I think he has his own order to it," Belle laughed. "Everything in its place."

"Oh certainly," Regina nodded earnestly and leaned even closer. "I must say I'm like that in my own office. It does mean I spend a great deal of time trying to work out where to put anything new, though."

"Yes!'' Belle grinned and nodded. "He's having a ridiculous time with his globe at the moment. He keeps moving it all over the place. I think he just hates having it out of his sight. Last night I asked if he wanted to sleep with it. He said he was 'almost tempted'."

Regina smiled once more, her eyes fluttering half closed as she savoured her discovery. "Well that is adorable. But don't tell him I said that - I'm not sure who would be more embarrassed: him or me."

"Oh no, I won't," Belle agreed readily. There was a pause. "Is there anything else I can show you? Would you like a library card?"

"No dear, that's alright. I have everything I need."

* * *

The bell clanged when Regina opened the door to Mr Gold's eclectic emporium and she paused to stare up at the infernal device. She was fairly certain she had smashed the thing the last time she'd been in here.

The man in question emerged from the back room, surprise evident at who had come calling.

"Why, Madame Mayor, I didn't expect to see you so soon after our pleasant chat yesterday."

Regina regarded him placidly and considered stringing out his almost painful curiosity. But she finally relented.

"I thought we might make another arrangement, dear," she said. "One final deal between us. If you're agreeable of course," she watched as even more surprise flitted across his eyes before he blinked it away.

"Really? I thought you would be off declaring undying love to the lucky Miss Swan," he taunted. At her warning glare, he pressed on, "But I am a businessman, and always open to a new deal or two." He offered his most charming, smarmy smile.

Regina took a piece of paper out of her pocket and pushed it across the glass-topped counter towards him. "I know that you have recently made a withdrawal from my vault. This was among my mother's possessions which I inherited. Imagine my surprise at noticing, while paying respects to my father this morning, that it was missing."

He lifted the paper to his eyes and she watched as they darted across the sketch of a globe.

"Before you bother to deny it," Regina added, "it may be worth knowing I'm well aware of what it does and how it works. Not to mention how to get the best out of it for an absolutely accurate triangulation."

Gold's face now had an expression she had never witnessed before. Consternation.

"Best out of it?" he muttered quietly.

To anyone else it would have sounded like a statement. Regina knew better. It was a question.

"The last person to use it without doing a calibration wound up 15,000 miles from where they actually needed to be,'' she stated and gave him a knowing smirk. "I imagine that would have been fairly ... frustrating. I also imagine no one would want to have that problem in the future, either."

She held her breath.

Gold placed the paper back on the desk and eyed her.

"What do you want?"

Regina smiled widely now and slid her hand back into her pocket bringing out a typed list. "My requirements. Agree to meet them all, to the letter, and I will tell you everything I know about Mother's valuable globe."

The businessman's eyes slid slowly down the list, only a flare of the nostrils betraying his thoughts. He froze on the last item.

"Really, Madame Mayor?"

She pursed her lips. "We both get what we want. Or neither, I suppose. But it's fairer this way."

"Time is of the essence for me," he objected.

"You have waited three decades, Gold, for whoever it is you wish to track down. It's not like the globe won't simply relocate your target if it moves, whenever it is you decide to start your quest."

Gold looked at her thoughtfully. "What makes you think I am after any target? On a quest at all?''

"Why else acquire my globe?" Regina rolled her eyes at such a ridiculous question. "I am curious though, dear, as to what made you decide to become a grave robber right _now_?"

His eyes crinkled. "The benefit of having a woman at your side who loves to read and research so much is she sometimes turns up fascinating old books about curios and oddities, and their supposedly mythical properties. Imagine my surprise at being gifted such a book not two days ago and realising I recognised one detailed artefact. I had last seen it in a time long past while paying my respects to your dear mother. An item that, when I first saw it, I had believed was a mere silly trinket."

Regina's eyes narrowed. "Time spent with my mother?" She hissed in a breath. As always, it made her uneasy when he spoke of knowing her. She always felt there was far more to their involvement than he had ever revealed. Although her mother had never once mentioned him to her.

"I am curious, dearie, as to how your mother came by her globe?" Gold continued as if Regina had not interrupted. "It's not an easy object to stumble upon if its historical origins are to be believed."

"Now that would be telling," Regina said with a slow smirk. "Deal first, details later."

"I could just demand," he retorted, leaning forward into her space. "I could just say 'please', and all deals are off the table and my bidding would be instantly done."

Silence hung before them and Regina sighed inwardly, reluctant to play this particular card. She'd found herself actually hoping he wouldn't push her into it. Such tawdry tactics no longer held the satisfaction they might once have done. But her choices were limited now. She was committed.

"The hard thing about being Mayor," Regina began in a feigned, painful tone, "is not being able to look after all my constituents. Some are more vulnerable than others. It makes me wish I had more resources to keep everyone safe. But it simply isn't always possible. It's my greatest regret." She looked at him sadly and shook her head. "You understand."

"You're threatening my Belle?'' His outraged eyes flashed at her. He lifted his walking stick above the table and waved it at her as he growled: "I could kill you where you stand."

"Go right ahead, dear," Regina said airily. "But don't expect this curse to ever end if I'm dead." She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Corpses cannot whisper declarations of love."

"I will not have a hair on her head harmed!" he snarled.

"I can see that," she nodded agreeably. "Very ... chivalrous of you, dear. And I have several contingency plans in place should you try to use 'please' to force me into staying my hand personally," she lied smoothly.

He looked at her, about to open his mouth. And, to her enormous relief, hesitated.

"So I expect you'll be accepting my deal," Regina pushed forward before he gave it too much considered thought. "My terms aren't particularly odious, I'm sure you'll agree. Especially the first ten items - given you won't care one whit about your present situation should the curse suddenly lift."

Gold stared down at the list again and drew his eyes back to Regina. He ground his teeth together.

"So this list fulfilled for everything you know about the globe?" he queried.

"Yes." She offered him a pen, pointing to the dotted line at the bottom of the page. "And I won't reveal anything of the top ten items to anyone, unless the curse breaks. No one will know." She looked at him pointedly to see that he understood. "Your ... status will be safe."

His lips twisted into a snarl but he nodded. He took the contract, fingertipping it as though it was too hot to touch, before signing with his trademark flourish.

"Don't forget the duplicate, dear,'' Regina stated and produced a copy. She signed her own name on both and watched as he read the second to check it was the same, then signed once more. She slid his copy over to him to keep.

They regarded each other for a moment.

"Well?" he asked. "Do tell me everything, dearie. No holding back."

She slid another piece of paper over. It had one short paragraph typed on it.

His eyes flashed in disbelief as he read it. "This says nothing at all about how to calibrate the globe."

Regina smirked. "That's because the globe doesn't need calibrating to operate."

"What? You said the last person to use it without calibrating it ended up 15,000 miles off course."

"And he did. But that's because the man got hopelessly lost. Not because he didn't calibrate it."

Gold's brow furrowed and he read on. "All this offers is a brief history of the device. Cora got it from a realm jumper?"

"Yes. I'm not certain which one. She wasn't forthcoming when she chose not to be. It may have even been Jefferson's but I never bothered to ask. That..." she indicated the paper with a pointed finger, "Is literally everything I know about it. Without a lie or omission."

Gold slapped it down to the counter and eyed her through narrowing slits. "You dare trick me? Me!''

The indignation and incredulity in his voice would have been hilarious if it didn't also sound so very menacing.

"I dare," she replied in a low dangerous tone, unconsciously mirroring his triumphant words of a day ago. "Not a pleasant sensation is it?" she added softly, and the edges of her mouth slowly curled up.

She then picked up her copy of the signed deal and stalked towards the door, giving an arrogant sway to her hips.

"Mr Gold," she purred in farewell, amusement lacing her throaty voice before she opened the door and stepped out into the street. The bell jangled dully behind her.

Oh yes, Regina Mills liked to win.


	54. Chapter 54

**THE STAIRCASE**  
**By Red Charcoal**

**CHAPTER 54: PIECE BY PIECE**

Emma woke for the second time that day, and just like the first, mourned the fact Regina's side of her bed was cold and empty. The first time at least she'd had the pleasure, through half-lidded eyes, of watching The Transformation.

From naked rumpled lover to, one thigh-high at a time, a sharp, cool, unapproachable, seriously sexy mayor. Although any of her aloof attitude was severely undercut by the fact Emma now knew intimately the colour and composition of the lacy red panties and matching bra the Mayor of Storybrooke had slipped on this morning. It had made her itch to dance her fingertips up underneath that slate grey power skirt and avail herself of the woman beneath the tight cotton armor.

Regina had turned and caught her staring, her lips pressing together, even as her brown eyes danced and taunted her. The brunette let her suffer for a moment of silence before saying just one word in her ear.

"Later," she murmured as Emma pleaded her disappointment silently through large green eyes. Eyes that soon fluttered closed.

She was asleep before she heard the front door open and shut downstairs.

Emma winced as she sat up this time, finding sore muscles had been used in ways she hadn't conceived possible. Their spirited furtive fumblings throughout the night had taken a toll on her energy levels and Emma was mystified as to how Regina could even contemplate going into work - let alone achieving the feat at such an early time.

As she hunted for her bra and panties (under the bed; wardrobe doorknob - in that order), she considered their previous night's activities. It was not exactly the most elegant of lovemaking, as they were both strictly adhering to their agreed upon ground rules as to what would not be a good idea yet. But they had become incredibly adept at lovingly touching, stroking, wandering, exploring, nibbling and sliding tongues up and down smooth expanses of skin - for hours.

The mayor's stamina had been an eye-opener for Emma who had been begging for sleep after their third go-around, only to be effectively silenced by the most delicious kiss she had ever experienced. "Really, dear?" was husked in her ear as a haughty challenge. "Are you quite sure?"

_Well shit._ Emma never uttered one word of protest after that and allowed the brunette's indecently skilled tongue to do pretty much whatever she damn well pleased.

She glanced at the clock and then froze. _Eleven? How the hell had that happened?_ She flung back the bedding and padded into Regina's en suite, blasting the water to hot as she washed her hair and let the night's searingly pleasurable memories roll over her. _God, her life was now officially upside-down._ She doubted she'd ever be the same again. There was no way she was the same woman who had rolled into Storybrooke less than a week ago.

_Which reminded her..._

* * *

Emma closed her phone with a soft click and shook her head. Her secretary Mandy had spent the first ten minutes telling her she knew, _absolutely knew_, that the moment Emma had taken off with Regina, she wouldn't be coming back. She sounded both smug and sad to be conclusively proved right.

The blonde leaned against the park bench near Granny's and considered the next part of the conversation. Thirty-seven messages in her absence - including one from her former boss, Bob, who had come sniffing around in person to see her. Ostensibly it was to catch up for a beer, and see how she was. Reading between the lines though, he hated his new job at Knave Investigations (_big surprise there, given they were all assholes_) and was probably desperate to jump ship to her firm. They'd been a good team, after all.

The only other detailed message Mandy had given her was more in the line of gossip. The woman had begun with a breathy, wheezy influx of air that sounded like she was about have an asthma attack, and told her that apparently a certain sexy mayor had employed the services of a certain shapely lawyer Emma had dated once. Shania had, it seemed, been crowing in delight that a mayor, _an actual mayor_, had hired her for something.

Mandy had said that, not half an hour ago, thanks to a couple of wines over lunch with Shania, she had coerced the name out of her - Regina Mills - but beyond that, the work she'd been contracted for had not been disclosed.

_Nor should it be, for professional reasons_, Emma mused. _At least Shania wasn't entirely stupid._ Still, Emma had stared, baffled, as that tidbit had been imparted and could think of little else to say.

"OK, Mandy, uh, thanks for the dirt."

"By the way Shania has no idea of your connection with the mayor at all. Oh, hey, you gotta pen? Here's Bob's number. He said to call him soon."

She'd then rung off with a chirpy "Catchya, boss".

Emma glanced at the number she'd jotted down. Mandy hadn't been opposed to acquiring a new freelance boss of sorts, and the eccentric secretary had even taken a shine to Bob during their brief meeting. Emma glanced at the number again and made the call.

Bob was delighted her hear from her, surprisingly so given she had shot through on him to take Henry home and had never returned. She did text him once, an apologetic "Sorry, I have to quit", but that was it.

So she made him her offer. Take over her bounty jobs if/when/until she moved back to Boston. And if she never did, they'd talk turkey in another 12 months about him taking her business over completely.

He'd almost leaped down the phone in glee.

"Shit, sure thing kiddo, sure thing. I'll be round there tomorrow. Let me just tell Simon Knave where to shove it. Shit, this is fuckin' great. Knave is a total ass."

She'd held the phone away from her ear for a bit until he'd gotten his out-of-character enthusing out of his system.

"Right," she said neutrally, cutting him off after about five minutes of excited ranting. "Uh, sounds good. I'll get Mandy to set it all up."

He offered a cheeky, parting proposal that "Swan Bounty Hunting" might have a better ring if it was instead called "Bob's Bounty Hunting". She laughed and suggested good-naturedly that the old bastard remember exactly who his boss was now.

She texted Mandy back to confirm she could expect Bob tomorrow.

Done, she leaned back against the bench and did a spot of navel gazing. How did she feel? _Free_. How odd. She had no job, not here, not yet, and nothing had really been promised on that score, although plenty of assumptions had been made.

But here, back in Storybrooke, she felt ... wanted. Lighter. Connected. Like half her life hadn't been detached and floated out into deep space, while she was stuck inside an air-tight capsule watching it drift about from afar. She found herself at peace.

She liked that.

_Soooo, next stop._ She thought for a moment. Lunch. She'd bring Regina lunch and see if she couldn't lure her out of the building for an impromptu picnic.

She grinned at the thought of it.

* * *

Loreena Greene, personal assistant and secretary to Mayor Regina Mills, rolled her wheelchair to the filing cabinet to the left of her desk and began to file. She paused to tuck a curl of jet black hair back into its tight, orderly bun and then resumed work efficiently. Within moments she felt herself being watched, the hairs on her neck rising, and without turning knew exactly who it was.

The footsteps hadn't clacked along the marble floor like her boss's high heels. Nor did they thunder like those of the male councilors. Nor sweep then tap like Mr Gold's. She heard the softest squeak of leather boots, quiet but sure-footed, and knew without a doubt she'd find the town's former sheriff leaning against the door if she turned.

_Sure enough._

"Hey," Emma Swan said as Loreena looked up into the face of the woman all of Storybrooke was talking about. She wondered if the blonde was even aware of that fact.

She'd bet no.

"Miss Swan," she replied professionally. "How may I assist you?"

"She in?" Emma asked and jerked a thumb towards Mayor Mills's office.

Loreena lifted an eyebrow at the shorthand talk, waiting for a reason to be offered. Miss Swan always stuttered out at least one reason, sometimes several, as though dating the mayor was not sufficient grounds for entry. Of course, the blonde did seem unaware all of Storybrooke knew Regina Mills's changed relationship status.

A brown paper bag lifted in the blonde's hand and was waggled under Loreena's nose as a wide grin split Emma's face. "I, uh, brought her lunch."

From the oily smear slowly increasing at the bottom of the bag, Loreena highly doubted that. Still, far be it for her to suggest the blonde might try cutting down on fries and grease with her order if she actually expected the mayor to partake in any of it.

"Mayor Mills was in earlier but left an hour ago," she responded distantly.

As Emma opened her mouth, eyes full of queries, Loreena interrupted. "No, I do not know where she went nor when she will be back."

She couldn't quite school her downward tug of her lips as she imparted this information. "She doesn't always notify me of her plans."

Emma paused and scrutinised her expression, and for just a moment Loreena felt uncomfortably stripped naked. She could well understand how the slouching sheriff had also once doubled as an effective bounty hunter. It seemed her keen eyes missed few details.

"Well that sucks," Emma said kindly. "Um, Loreena, right?"

"Yes, Miss Swan."

"Hey, call me Emma."

Loreena sighed inwardly. She really didn't want to become friends with the other woman any time soon. It was bad enough having to deal with the mayor's mercurial moods and demands - although to be fair both had declined significantly in the past few months. Romantic entanglements apparently brought out the human side of the normally testy woman. But Loreena, a career secretary, knew the score: Become friends with your boss's partner, and soon you're expected to be a pseudo secretary for _them_, as well. Make birthday present suggestions, buy their flowers, or make secret hot-date reservations. You then learn all about your boss's saccharine side, or worse, what they're like when they're wanting/planning/hoping to engage in sexual congress with said partner.

Loreena Greene shuddered. No, she did not plan on getting to know Miss Swan that well at all if that's what lay ahead.

"I prefer 'Miss Swan', if you have no objection," she finally replied. She rolled her wheelchair back to the desk and waited to see if that was all.

The other woman visibly sagged against the door frame, seemingly out of options. Her oily bag of fried grease had now begun to drip on the floor.

Loreena sighed and reached for the phone to call in the cleaners. She wondered at her boss's taste in partners. Emma Swan was, in her own shambolic way, as erratic and illogical a romance choice as the mayor was a frightening, domineering one. She briefly considered wondering what they possibly had in common before realising she didn't care enough to pursue this line of thought.

Her eyes dropped to her phone. She listened to the masculine voice with one ear, and heard Emma's awkward shuffle from foot to foot with the other.

"Mayor's office - yes, we need a clean up outside the doors to her office."

She listened some more.

"Some form of orange oil from a greasy food product," her lip curled as she stared at the sodden takeout bag. "Yes. Thank you."

Her eyes slid back up to Emma who stared at her, cheeks flaming as her eyes widened. "Shit, sorry! Why didn'tcha say?"

She dropped to her knees, pulling a tissue out of her pocket, smearing the oil drops across the pristine marble. She put the bag beside her and rubbed ferociously. Loreena winced, noting that where the bag was sitting was creating a new oily grease pool.

"Leave it," she suggested firmly. "Frank's on his way."

Emma stood. "OK, I'll um..." she jerked her thumb back towards the exit.

Loreena gave her a brief smile. "Excellent idea," she said.

She watched her leave, snatching up the paper bag, and wondered if Regina Mills realised how close she'd come to an artery clogging lunch, with a side of a heart attack.

* * *

"I don't think your secretary likes me," Emma said as she shared her food on the park bench with a curiously subdued Regina. The mayor hadn't said much about where she'd been all morning, but she'd readily agreed to meet up for lunch when she'd texted. And her eyes seemed to be shining for some reason.

"Miss Greene doesn't like anyone," Regina scoffed with a flash of white teeth as she bit into the roast beef and salad sandwich Emma had acquired for her. It was probably half cold by now, Emma winced.

"She doesn't like me either," Regina continued conversationally. "Don't take it to heart."

"I thought secretaries were s'posed to at least _pretend_ to like their bosses," Emma grinned. "I mean isn't that, like, a rule or something?"

"Your secretary might like you, dear, but mine just does her work and whatever else she does or thinks is of no interest to me whatsoever. For all I know or care she runs an underground railway to free imprisoned polar bears in her spare time."

"It doesn't bug you then? Not being liked?"

Regina paused mid-chew. "Why would it? I'm used to being disliked. It comes with being a politician. You cannot please all the people all the time and Miss Greene and her attitude is hardly special in that regard."

Emma looked softly at the brunette. "That might be true but I think a whole lot more people like you now than ever did the last time I was in town. A _lot_ more. I can feel The Great Thaw is on."

Regina's mouth quirked for a moment and Emma realised she agreed with her even if she'd never admit it.

"Well be that as it may, dear - and there's no accounting for fickle tastes of who is 'in vogue' this week - but my secretary's undisguised disdain for me has never impacted her job and that is what matters. Besides - if you must know, it's fairly mutual."

Emma chewed some more and suppressed a laugh at the way her exacting lover viewed the world. She then dipped her nearly cold, drooping fries in a small plastic tub of ketchup. "Speaking of secretaries, Mandy tells me you've hired Shania."

"Who?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "The 'country music singing lawyer'," she said. "Although she really doesn't sing country despite your constant claims to the contrary."

"If you say so," Regina said smoothly, eyes dancing. "I just needed some business sorted out and didn't want it known to all of Storybrooke five minutes later. It turns out your pretty country-singing cad is the only lawyer I know outside of this town. Although 'know' is probably far too strong a word. Anyway I made a few enquiries and her credentials checked out, so I forwarded her my requirements."

"So what kind of work is it?"

Regina stopped eating. "Mayoral business," she said shortly. "Of absolutely no interest to snooping bounty hunters or beautiful girlfriends."

"Point taken," Emma grinned. "So ... ah..."

Regina's eyes narrowed warningly, daring her to press the issue.

"...You really think I'm beautiful?"

The mayor laughed and her tension seemed to ebb away. "Definitely. You're also thoroughly blind if you can't see it yourself."

They sat in silence for a few more minutes before Regina bound up her sandwich wrappers in a fist.

"About Saturday ..." she began.

"Henry's birthday, yeah." Emma leaned forward curiously. Regina's knuckles were turning white where she held the crumpled paper.

"I have contacted Miss Blanchard and suggested she might like to have you stay over at her place that night."

"What? Why? Sick of me already?" The hurt in Emma's eyes must have been radiating because the mayor's hand immediately dropped the paper and clasped the blonde's softly.

"Never. But I have a birthday present for him - a very special one - and it must be done in privacy. Do you understand?"

"No," Emma said quietly. But as she saw the earnestness in the brunette's face she relented, linking fingers through hers. "No,'' she repeated, "But I see this is important to you."

"It is. Our boy is turning 12. He is on his way to being a man and I'd like to spend some quiet, quality time with just him and me."

Emma nodded. "OK. But if I have to listen to Mary Margaret and David doing the deed all night, I am holding you responsible for my mental scarring. God, they're like rabbits."

"That won't happen," Regina said and gave her a knowing smile. "I may have suggested to the eternally boring Mr Nolan he'd best be elsewhere on Saturday night, too."

"You didn't!" Emma gaped.

"I most certainly did. He cannot monopolise his fiancee's attention all the time - it's not healthy. Besides, I felt sure you would be more comfortable without him there. Miss Blanchard agreed. I suspect she wants some respite from his interminable snoring and ridiculously bland personality."

"Regina!" Emma slapped her arm playfully. "Stop making up shit!"

"Fine. Actually she agreed because she misses you and would love to spend more time with you. And trust me, I know the feeling, so it was easy to sympathise. Anyway, so the idea would be for you two to go home from the ranch together after the party and I'll take Henry with me."

"OK."

Regina nodded firmly. "So, now that's sorted, how do you feel about coming back to my place?"

"Right now? It's not even two."

"Mmm," Regina purred and leaned closer. "Henry's still at school, we have a few hours. I'd like to make the most of it since you seemed far too tired this morning to continue where we left off."

"God woman, you're insatiable," Emma murmured, looking at her in awe. "I mean _how_... never mind. What about work? Isn't Storybrooke going to miss its mayor if she disappears for some afternoon nookie?"

The expression on Regina's face shifted and she glanced away. "Does it really matter even if it does miss me?" she asked quietly.

Emma stared in astonishment. "Waitaminute - didn't you once give me a lecture on how Storybrooke's your town and diss it at my own peril and all that jazz? You sound like you don't even care now."

"That's not it," Regina objected. "_You're_ what really matters. You and Henry. I'm having a ... priority re-evaluation."

She paused for a moment and hesitated. "So are you turning me down?" she asked, her voice so low Emma had to strain to catch it.

The blonde peered at the intense brown eyes watching her. She was bemused, but shrugged. "Hell no. Lead on, Madame Mayor. I'm all yours."

Regina's smile was instant and powerful enough to rival a sun going supernova. "Glad to hear it, dear."


	55. Chapter 55

**THE STAIRCASE**  
**By Red Charcoal**

**CHAPTER 55: I WILL  
**

"So,'' Mary Margaret began, eyeing her former roommate with a cheeky grin. "Don't take this the wrong way, but any idea why you're here?"

Emma who had been bent over double, patting a layer off dust off her jeans' legs from a day of horse riding, partying and roping antics, paused and scrunched her brow.

"I seriously have no idea," she admitted with a huff and went back to slapping vigorously at her clothing. "Regina said something about wanting one-on-one time with Henry. But it's good, right? Us catching up? Been a while."

The teacher nodded easily. Her incredulous eyes tracked the slapping hands and small clouds of dust. "What HAVE you been doing, Em? I mean I saw you hit the dirt - repeatedly - in the lassoing contest, but you look like you've tracked in half of Matt's property with you!"

Mary Margaret laughed at her own joke. "Why don't you grab a shower first and I'll put on dinner."

"Yeah," Emma grunted, straightening up. "I'm a mess. I think all I was good for today was giving the kids a laugh."

Mary Margaret bit back a smirk. Seeing the sheriff flailing about at the roping challenges, and on occasions, getting herself so caught up in the ropes she'd ended up biting dirt in comic fashion was definitely the highlight of the party.

"Not just the kids enjoyed that," Mary Margaret said helpfully. "I noticed a certain eagle-eyed mayor who actually leaned over the railing for a better look. She had a _most_ interested expression on her face. And I know she wasn't trying to check out Archie's butt."

"Gah!" Emma groaned in embarrassment and bent over, shouldering her overnight bag with an almighty _wumpf_. "You're all impossible. No respect."

She stalked away but the teacher had just enough of a glimpse of twinkling green eyes to know no harm was done.

The petite woman stood and headed for the kitchen, hearing the shower turn on, and opened her fridge door.

After all that party food, something light was in order. Something like ... she reached for the salad ingredients and dug around for some chicken breasts.

It was nice having Emma back, she mused, although the other woman wasn't exactly the same one who'd lived with her a year and a half ago. Or anything like the woman she'd first met in Storybrooke.

That younger woman had been closed off and self sufficient to the point she needed no one in her life. Emma had initially not wanted Henry, had only reluctantly moved in with her, and it had taken months to crack through her shell to find the warm, gentle heart that lay beneath.

The woman in her shower right now was another conundrum altogether, Mary Margaret thought, as she efficiently chopped tomatoes and washed lettuce.

Not exactly closed off anymore. Her heart was far more on her sleeve than before, but now, so too was her damage. She was quicker to laugh, quicker to irritation and sadness. The brunette paused chopping. She was not the woman she'd known before at all. And yet in a way she was more than who she had been. It was insanely intricate and very confusing.

They'd yet to get into all that had transpired since Emma had gone back to Boston, but one thing she could tell just by looking was that Emma Swan was still in love with Regina Mills. And that was one constant that didn't seem to be changing any time soon.

Emma emerged fifteen minutes later, hair slightly damp, having donned forest green yoga pants and a white tank top. She wore thick socks. She slid onto a bar stool and watched as Mary Margaret slid the chicken into a pan to sear it.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"That depends. Has your cooking improved since you've been gone?"

"Not so much. No."

"Right." Mary Margaret turned and gave her smile. "Then no. All good."

Emma pulled a face.

"So," the brunette continued, "You and Regina have patched things up then? From what I've gathered you're ..."

She faded out at Emma's sharp look.

"Hell, does everyone know?"

"Pretty much, yes." Mary Margaret's lips twitched and she suppressed a smile when Emma looked appalled.

"Everyone's figured out where you're staying," she continued, as if checking off a list. "And they know Regina went to get you from Boston. And that she's been so very happy these past few days. And then there was THAT dance. I mean _really_ Emma?! _That dance!_ Oh and Ruby may have let slip to a few people, who told a few other people, that you both went camping together. So yes. Everyone. Pretty much."

Emma groaned and buried her head into her hands.

"And this would be a problem why?" the teacher asked, glancing up from her sizzling pan.

"It's... I... I'm a private person. So's Regina. We don't... " Emma paused as the pixie-faced woman's eyebrows knotted in confusion.

"I don't know," Emma finally sighed and threw her hands up. "I just liked having her all to myself for a bit. I don't want to share this. Us."

"Well she _is_ the mayor - she's 'everyone's' already whether you like it or not."

That seemed to stump the blonde for a moment.

"Never thought of it that way, she said hesitantly. She shook her head hard, as if unwilling to believe it. "But everyone's so indifferent to her. Or they were when _I_ lived here anyway," she added slowly, perplexed. "At least those who didn't outright hate her. Now you're saying ... I mean I've seen that they're thawing a little but ... actually, what are you saying? Come to think of it, why _did_ everyone give her such a shitty time in the first place? I never once asked."

Mary Margaret laughed out loud as she took in Emma's complete confusion. She tsk tsked a finger in front of her. "How soon they forget. You were singing the chorus of hate against her as loud as anyone when she first tried to keep Henry from you. You know very well why people had issues with her then."

"Yeah, yeah," Emma growled, a faint pink hue creeping across her cheeks. "I remember. But my issues were all _personal_. I seem to recall the daggers she got were town-wide and had nothing to do with Henry. So why was that? Seems to me there are no potholes in the street, no schools falling down nor rubbish left rotting..."

"She's a little intimidating," Mary Margaret said, and eased the chicken out of the pan. As green eyes met hers she pursed her lips. "All right, a LOT intimidating. Even if _you_ weren't intimidated - and I seriously think now that was half the reason Regina was attracted to you - most of _us_ were. If not every one of us. Well, except Mr Gold."

Emma sighed and her mood seemed to sink before Mary Margaret's eyes. "But she's a lot better now," she added hastily before the former sheriff got any more sour about the old grievances directed at her girlfriend. "Now we can all see she's human. And, of course, we have you to thank for that. So don't go getting all territorial now just because we're more interested in her."

"They know she's human because I danced with her once in public?" Emma asked with a head shake. "That's just ... how stupid. People dance all the time."

"Oh no, that's not it," Mary Margaret said with a gentle laugh. She reached for a knife to chop the chicken. "You weren't even here when it happened. She announced she was going to get you back and got a little choked up when Henry hugged her and then Ruby and Kathryn started hugging her and it was like a dam broke. It was an astonishing moment. I'll never forget it."

At the silence across from her, Mary Margaret stilled her slicing and looked up. Emma was gaping at her. She quickly reviewed what she'd just said. "Oh. I suppose that does sound odd when you say it out loud. Storybrooke hugs crying mayor. I guess you had to be there. It was the moment we all decided Regina Mills may have been a little misjudged by us." She laughed suddenly at a thought. "We've been alarming her over our re-evaluation of her ever since."

"How do you mean?"

Mary Margaret grinned as she resumed chopping. "Let's just say it's been great fun watching her reactions to people's spontaneous outpourings of gratitude for the recent town projects. She always looks ready to flee down the pavement and give her Jimmy Choos a work out."

Emma threw her head back and laughed. "Shit, really?"

"Oh yes. Sometimes she gets all snippy and rude and stalks off. But it's really hard to be intimidated by her anymore when we've all seen a glimpse of who she is under the armor. No one takes it personally anymore. Never EVER tell her this," she paused and waggled her knife warningly at Emma, "but some of us think it's almost cute."

Emma thought about that for a long moment. "Can I ask you something?"

"Mmm," Mary Margaret agreed as she washed her hands and moved back to the salad.

"At the speech, at Archie's wedding, she admitted she'd been seeing him professionally. Why didn't anyone freak out over that?''

Mary Margaret shrugged. "We all knew something had been changing her. Some people had seen her going in for appointments. Those who didn't know about it would have just gone, 'Oh, that explains it'. But why would anyone freak out?"

Silence.

"Emma?"

"I did," came a small voice.

"Is that why you got so drunk that night? You found out Regina needed therapy over what happened between you?"

"No, n-not that... It was because she went to therapy and told everyone. EVERYONE! I... it's... _God!_" She stared at Mary Margaret incomprehensibly as though she could imagine no worse fate in the world.

"Emma there's no shame in getting a bit of help when you need it."

The blonde bit her lip and looked down.

Mary Margaret carried two plates over to the table and went back for the cutlery. "David and I saw Archie at one point early in our relationship and we found it very useful. You know, checking we had the same goals and poking over some of the issues with Kathryn. You might benefit from going to him, too. Have you been considering it? Is that why you're asking about this?"

Emma shook her head vigorously. So vigorously that Mary Margaret stopped dead in her tracks to stare. "Emma?"

A loud, aggrieved sigh sounded from the table.

"Maybe." The word was a mumble, barely audible.

The teacher's face split into a smile. "That's great, Em. You should do it. Really." The blonde clenched her jaw. Mary Margaret knew that look. "So what's stopping you?"

"Everything?" Another mumble.

"Mmmm. OK dinner's ready," Mary Margaret said. She reached for a wine bottle and a corkscrew, keeping an eye on Emma out of her periphery as the blonde sat down and fidgeted with her cutlery.

"Lot of private stuff buried inside," Emma suddenly said softly, green eyes burning holes in her trembling, twisting hands. "Takes a freaking lot of guts to go and lay all that out with someone," she said and exhaled hard. "Not really sure I-I can."

Mary Margaret hastily put down the wine bottle and went straight to Emma's side and slid an arm around her shoulders. She was sure the occasionally prickly woman would pull away indignantly. To her surprise she leaned in a little, as if appreciating the warm touch.

"Em, sweetie, it takes guts to just _live_ some days," she said quietly. "Let alone go through what you did with Regina. You have more courage - and she has more courage - than anyone I can think of. The fact you have found a way back from where you were, to where you are? My goodness, that takes enormous bravery. The rest is - well it's like the annoying, vexing loose-end stuff you can't deal with yourself but maybe Archie can help you tuck away or snip off. Right?"

Emma released a shuddering breath she probably didn't even know she was holding and glanced up at her. "Thanks."

The blonde reached for the salad bowl and Mary Margaret got the hint and stepped away, turning to fetch wine glasses.

"So you'll see him then?" the teacher asked hopefully,

Emma clunked noisily a spoonful of salad on her plate and arched an eyebrow. "Maybe," she offered. Her eyes sparkled.

"Whatever you decide, that's fine with me," Mary Margaret said kindly.

Another clunk of spoon heaped with salad hit the plate. "Good to know." The words were said deadly seriously but the atmosphere had lifted and the teacher was sure she was being toyed with now, especially given the curl twitching at the edges of Emma's mouth.

She grinned back. "So you'll see him then?" she asked again, being deliberately annoying, like a child asking if they were 'there yet' ten times. Amusement coated her voice. "Will you?"

Emma suddenly laughed and kept on laughing. When she finally stopped, her face relaxed and she stared at her friend gratefully.

She whispered three small words that immediately lightened Mary Margaret's heart.

"Yes. I will."

* * *

Henry Mills pulled his knees up on his bed and eyed his mother seated regally at the foot of it. Regina leaned back on one, grey, silky clad arm and crossed her legs. A hand slid into the pocket of black tailored pants. She watched him fondly.

Her son had been chattering non-stop about his party, the rides, the fun. How much he loved it; how happy he was. How it was the best birthday ever and could he get his own horse _pleaseeee_. He'd made at least three new friends which made Regina more proud than she'd ever dare admit. Somehow all the food and festivities - and perhaps the red cordial - had affected the mood to the point her son had been both sociable and borderline popular. She hoped it would last.

He noted her stillness now and abruptly stopped his excited chatter. He swivelled his head around as though realising how quiet it was for the first time.

"Where's Emma?" he asked curiously.

"She's catching up with Miss Blanchard tonight. I thought, seeing it's your birthday, I'd have some time with just the two of us."

His eyebrows knitted suspiciously and she sighed inwardly. She'd never get used to that expression, even though, mercifully, it had been awhile since she'd seen it. As if realising his rudeness - another merciful new development - he quickly rearranged his expression to a neutral slate. When he spoke it was still with limited enthusiasm, however.

"Um, OK, Mom. What'd you want to do then?"

She studied her son for a moment. He was growing up. His face lengthening a bit, his body taller, legs lankier. But still her little boy. She realised he was waiting for her to speak and pulled her hand slowly out of her side pocket. Hesitating.

"I thought I would give you something you've wanted for a long time. Something I now trust you with."

His eyes lit up then, burning with curiosity, and for a moment she was sure she could see the exact mirror of Emma in them.

She took his hand softly in hers, and brought it over to her lap. She dropped something in it, then closed his hand and pushed it back.

She let go.

He stared at his now closed knuckles. He curled his hand open and looked at the tiny silver key. He traced it with his finger. "What is it for?"

"It is what you've asked for, Henry," she said with deadly earnestness.

"Mom?"

"I love you, Henry," she said, as tears sprang suddenly, annoyingly, in the corner of her eyes. "You won't forget that will you? That I love you with all that I am. I always have. From the moment you were placed in my arms."

"Mo-om?" This time his voice broke and he looked genuinely afraid.

"Do you mind if I ..." she faded out. But her arms lifted out towards him and he nodded. He leaned forward and allowed the hug, clinging to her a little tighter than she'd dare hope. It made her smile a little and she blinked away the tears, glad to find no new ones replaced them.

They parted.

Henry cleared his throat anxiously. "What's the key for, Mom?"

She lifted her hand to his forehead and patted down a few stray hairs. She bit her lip. Stalling.

_She never stalled._

"Please Mom? You're scaring me. Tell me?"

His eyes contained an aching plea.

She nodded and gave him a reassuring smile. "Yes, dear. I will."

* * *

Emma regarded her son as they sat in a park, watching his tight, tired expression with concern. She'd been up early for a jog after a pretty good night at Mary Margaret's when she spotted him out for what appeared to be an aimless walk. Judging by the scuffs on his shoes and jeans knees, she'd guessed his exit had been straight down the side of their house. She diverted her run and had sat them both down.

"How was the night with your mom?" she asked, deciding on a safe enough topic.

He shrugged, attempting an expression of unconcern. "Different." The word came out strangled and cold.

"What happened? Your mom said she had a special present for you. Did she give it to you?"

"Yes."

_Like pulling teeth. _She sighed.

"It was a key," he added at her unspoken question after a few beats.

"Really? What's it open?"

"I can't tell you."

"Can't or won't?" she grinned and bumped his shoulder with her own.

"Both," he said dully.

That brought Emma up short. "How can it be both?"

Henry exhaled. "It can be. Trust me."

"Oh. Look kid, you're starting to freak me out. Are you OK?"

Henry shook his head. "No." His eyes filled with tears and he latched onto her. "No," he whispered. "I want everything to stay like it is now. I don't want anything to change."

"What makes you think it will change? Is this about me? Cos didn't your mom tell you I'm staying now?"

She felt him nod against her.

"So then ... what's the problem?"

Henry just cried harder, his fingers clutching her close.


	56. Chapter 56

**THE STAIRCASE**  
**By Red Charcoal**

**CHAPTER 56: HER**

Emma turned into the walkway to the Mayor's house, one hand on Henry's shoulder where it had rested since she'd walked him back from the park. He'd said nothing else to enlighten her as to what had upset him and all she'd heard as they strolled was the occasional sniffing.

His pace slowed as they headed up the narrow path towards the door. The bronze '108' gleamed in the morning light.

Before they could reach the steps, the white door flung open and Emma froze as a wave of deja vu rolled over her.

Regina stood framed in the entrance way, still and silent, staring at Henry. Her expression, while hooded to most, Emma recognised as worry and fear.

Time slowed.

"Henry," Regina cried out and she stepped forward, trembling arms rising in an invitation for a hug from him.

Emma almost shook herself as the vivid image of the last time she'd seen this moment ricocheted around her head. Her mind fastforwarded the scene from before. Henry submitting to a fierce, frightened hug. Henry contemptuously spitting out that he had found his real mother. Henry running inside. A stunned Regina turning, open mouthed to look at her. Too filled with shock to register who or what she represented. Too worried to try and hate her. _Yet._

Emma bit her lip and hung back, watching. She might not know what had come between mother and son but the moment she saw Regina's arms drop suddenly - as though she didn't believe he would hug her - a surge of worry rocked her.

_What on earth had happened?_ Emma frowned.

Regina's eyes were fixed on Henry, burning, fearful. Her arms now hung limply at her sides. Brown eyes jumped to Emma and back to Henry, as though asking him a question.

He resumed trudging forward but gave his adoptive mother the smallest head shake. She gave a tiny acknowledging nod, eyes warming slightly.

_What the hell?_

Henry reached his mother. He paused for a long beat, in front of the figure in a simple plain white blouse and slate grey tailored pants. His foot twitched towards the house, as if to keep moving, but then it stilled. He hesitated and, achingly slowly, looked up.

Emma held her breath, wondering if history would yet again repeat - and just how crushed Regina would be this time if it did.

* * *

**TWELVE HOURS EARLIER**

"Before I tell you about the key, Henry,'' Regina began softly, "I need you to know that it is not my gift. It is a responsibility. You might even think an awful one. A burden. I'll explain more after I give you what you want."

Henry watched his mother's face and didn't speak, aware this was something huge. His mind darted over the possibilities but finally realised he had no idea at all what she was talking about.

His mother seemed oddly nervous, and Henry realised he had never seen this expression on her face before. It was like he was about to be told ... His eyes flew open and his voice was thick with dread.

"Are you OK?'' he asked. His friend Sam, at school, had a mom with cancer. She spent all her time at hospital and he was getting sadder and sadder. He looked at her with huge eyes. "You're not sick?"

"No, dear, I'm not," she smiled and patted his hair absent-mindedly. He grinned at her then, relieved. To his surprise her face fell at his smile. "I hope you still feel as delighted by my excellent health in another hour," she murmured.

His eyebrows rose. "What?"

"Get me your book."

And that was the moment. The actual absolute moment that Henry's heart fell through into his stomach. He literally felt as sick as he possibly could when he realised exactly where this was going. Why she would want his book.

He knew it was written all over his face when she gave him a sad sigh and continued.

"My present to you is to give you something you've always wanted. The truth. The whole truth of everything you've ever demanded to know. What you deserve to know. And much more."

Henry shakily reached under his bed and pulled the book out. It had a layer of dust on it as it had been so long since he'd bothered with it. And why would he? Everything had been going great lately. And now? He glanced at his mom anxiously as he placed the thick tome gently between them on the bed. His thoughts were running riot. So many questions. But only one kept leaping out.

"It's t-true?" he asked shakily.

She licked her lips and dusted the cover lightly with her hand. She paused. "More or less. Yes."

She had said that in a strange way. His anxiety actually paused mid panic attack as he turned it over in his head. "What do you mean 'more or less'?" he croaked. "Are you ... t-the Evil Queen or not?"

A much longer pause this time.

Then: "Yes." She pursed her lips but gazed at him unwaveringly.

He stared. Really stared, trying to understand the woman who had raised him, who looked at him with kind eyes, who taught him to ride a bike, let him ride Starfire, who bandaged up his scraped knees when he was a little kid, and who ... could also be the most feared of all the villains to ever exist.

He wasn't blind. He knew his mother was also moody, cold, often treated him as though he was too young to understand anything and, at one point, had been as mean as she could towards Emma. She had enjoyed punishing her far too much. But she was still his mother. And - it turns out she was also ... _Her_.

He swallowed nervously.

"But," Regina continued, and her eyes pleaded now, "Not anymore. And never the way your book explained it. Or rather, didn't."

Multiple responses rushed through his brain but he ditched them all. He felt her watching him. When he finally lifted his eyes to hers he saw fear. _Fear of rejection?_ That was rich.

"You made me feel like I was crazy," he accused angrily. "You sent me to Dr Hopper. The other kids made fun of me when they found out. I had no friends for ages because of it. Because of YOU!"

"Yes." She said it quietly, looking down, as though ashamed. She cleared her throat and stared at her hands. "I felt very strongly that if I hadn't sent you to Dr Hopper that people would have thought I was an unfit mother for not helping a child who seemed disturbed and delusional. I also was afraid that if you told your curse story often enough, some people might start to remember. It was selfish of me and very wrong for you to have to endure. I'm sorry."

That stymied him. His mouth clanged shut. Henry had expected excuses, lies and rage, possibly blaming other people for forcing her to do bad things - not simple _surrender_. He was not ready to forgive. No way. He was angry, damn it. He bit his bottom lip fiercely, trying to hold back his first response. And his second. He didn't want his mother to clam up now that she seemed to be finally talking. His rage could wait, he told himself.

Henry eyed her from under a floppy sweep of hair and asked something he was desperate to know. "Why now?"

It appeared this was not the question she'd expected and she tilted her head towards him.

"You're growing up. You used to believe everything was so black or white," she sighed. "Painfully so. Villains and saviors. All perfectly formed in some vacuum. Life's not like that though, Henry." She looked up, finally meeting his eyes, and he realised he could see anguish there, a memory perhaps. And it still hurt her. "I think you might be ready to hear about the shades of grey," she continued. "It's not a pretty story. But then neither is what I became.

"I'm sorry I have to tell it to you now, but I think I'd like you to understand who I was, who I became and why, before everyone in Storybrooke finds out. I owe you that much. You deserve to know before anyone else."

Henry nodded. He did deserve to know first.

A thought hit him.

"It's going to break soon? The curse?" He wondered why he didn't feel eager. As if his mother's sad mood had seeped into his skin. He shifted uncomfortably as he waited for her answer.

"Yes." Another disheartened look.

"How do you know?" He'd read the book many times now, and its vagueness on the curse's end had struck him each time.

"Gold - or Rumpelstiltskin to be exact - tried to put me on a short timeline to voluntarily break it, or he'd force me to do it."

Henry felt his heart skip and he felt the same foreboding feeling that always came over him anytime the man was mentioned. It was now ten times worse.

"You said he tried to make you break it soon," Henry whispered. "Does that mean you wouldn't do what he said?"

"I did a deal and won an extension, among other things," she said. "I still have to do so, but it's on my terms now. I get to tell you when _I_ want for instance. And I get time to prepare properly for when it breaks."

She seemed pleased by that and Henry found it odd. Why, when her defeat was so close, did she seem in any way ... satisfied?

"What happens when it breaks?"

Regina gave his hand a pointed look. "You use the key."

Henry glanced at the key sitting flatly in his palm and back at his mother.

"On what?''

"I'll explain that soon. But first..." She reached for the fairytales book and flicked towards the middle. She stopped almost angrily and pointed. The black and white etching showed an Evil Queen, staring into a mirror at an image of Snow White, while holding a poisoned apple. The glint in the inked eye was positively feral.

Regina's nostrils flared in distaste.

"Read the caption," she said stiffly. Her finger lingered, sliding across the image as if accusing it of misdeeds.

"The Evil Queen plotting to murder Snow White because she is more beautiful than her," Henry dutifully read out. He slid his eyes up to his mother. She looked pained.

"Do I really strike you as so vain?" she asked, outraged. "Have you ever once known me to make any comments about the physical beauty of others in a disparaging or jealous way? I mean _really_!"

Henry thought back throughout his life. His mother rarely commented on people's looks at all, now she mentioned it. Their fashion, sure. But not looks. Although once recently she'd slipped that she thought Emma had "stunning hair of gold" before she'd coughed, blushed and pretended she'd never spoken.

"No."

"No," Regina sighed. "So you agree this is a lie, Henry, based on what you know about me?"

Henry hesitated. He didn't know the Evil Queen at all. But then again, this just didn't ring true. The image's picture, the caption, the mean message. _Wrong_.

"Yes, it seems to be a lie," he finally offered, then frowned. He knew where his mom was going with this. "So," he began slowly, "How many lies _are_ there in the book?"

Regina gave him a thin smile and humphed. "Enough. But, personally, it's the omissions that are the most damning."

Henry tried to digest that. Her outrage seemed weird. The more he thought about it, the stupider it seemed to his 12-year-old brain. "But you were still the _Evil Queen_! How can that ever be right, no matter what they left out?"

"Oh Henry," Regina sighed. "I never ever said it was right. And context is everything. If you never learn anything else in life, please learn that."

She closed the book and gazed at Henry. "You deserve the truth, yes, and I deserve the right to tell it in my own words, since you've been reading other people's for long enough. Will you listen to it? Every single story has two sides. Even mine."

He looked at her doubtfully. _How could evil have another side? How could anything excuse any of what he'd read about her?_ He opened his mouth to say so but the sadness in his mother's eyes brought him up cold.

He was 12 now. Almost a man, he liked to think. He'd also very much liked it when she said he was old enough to know there were shades of grey. He couldn't for the life of him understand how there could be here, but ... He looked at her again. She was right about the lies in the caption. And she was his mom.

He looked across to her and nodded. "All right," he said more harshly than he'd meant. He knew he sounded uncertain and angry. Well, he was. But still he added: "I'll listen."

She folded her hands in her lap and began. "Once upon a time ..."

* * *

It had been two hours. The tale of the sweet young girl Regina and her love of horses and a stable boy named Daniel had spilled from his mother's lips, haltingly. She paused often to wipe her eyes. Her voice shook - a lot. They both pretended it didn't.

By the time his mother had gotten to the wedding to an old king, she was almost shaking, her knuckles, which she'd wrapped around one of her ankles were white. Henry had a razor-sharp sense of dread by the time she'd mentioned his "physical cruelties and emotional detachment". The way she'd said it he knew, _knew_ in his twisted guts, it went a lot deeper than that. He had a suspicion that he knew what she wasn't saying out loud and the idea revolted him. He felt sick and his eyes burned darkly in rage for a young woman who had no way of getting out.

In a flash of insight he then blurted out a question that the moment he said it knew needed no answer.

"It was Leopold," he gasped. "You were forced to marry the Leopold monster?"

And that was when she broke down. Sobbing. Trying not to, a hand stuffed in her mouth, her eyes darting to the door as if deciding she might flee. Henry didn't even think, just scooted over and curled his arm around her back and patted until the tears stopped. She nodded repeatedly - answering his question over and over non-verbally so she wouldn't have to speak - and Henry cursed himself for having asked. _Of course the man was Leopold. _

Her tears stopped and he found her a box of tissues which she silently used. Henry gave her a few minutes as he turned over what she'd told him about the child Snow, and Daniel's awful death.

She had said three times Snow had killed Daniel by not keeping her mouth shut, but each time Henry had noticed she'd said it extra forcefully. As if saying it louder made it true. Instead he thought about Snow's father. A king who doted on his young daughter. And a small girl who so badly wanted a new mother. He recalled very well what that had felt like. It had been so strong, that urge. If he'd been Snow, just what would he have done to get the new mother of his choice to stay in his life?

He realised he didn't have to ask as he'd already done it himself. The answer was easy: Anything.

He looked at his mother and hesitated, wondering if she even realised why she was really so angry with Snow. Because everyone knows little girls tattle. He'd known that annoying fact himself since he was seven.

"This is why you blamed Snow so much? Hated her?" he whispered. "Not for Daniel being killed because she told on you, but for her wanting you as her new mom so much? For making the king feel he really, really HAD to marry you just to make her happy? That if he didn't do it she would be really sad."

"What?!" she said, gaping.

"You hated her for wanting you so much that even your own mom believed Daniel had to die to make it happen. I think you were basically really mad at Snow cos she made it so you ended up living with the Leopold monster." His voice dropped to a sad whisper. "It wasn't even his idea, was it Mom? So that's why you hate her."

Regina had frozen so suddenly that he wondered if he'd said the wrong thing again. Her entire face transformed in disbelief and she stared at him. She ran her hand through her hair shakily.

"I-I had never thought of it like that." She shook her head as if to clear it. "But the outcome was cruel and violent no matter whether it was the child's selfish desires or loose tongue that trapped me in it. I never got a say in any of it. Do you understand that?" She glared for a moment at no one in particular, then lowered her voice to a dangerous tone. "So, for whatever the reason, I hated Snow with a fury that knew no end."

"Until now?" Henry asked.

She gazed out to the window thoughtfully but did not answer immediately. Finally she offered neutrally: "I feel many things these days. It's hard to make sense of it anymore. With Snow it will always be complicated."

That was, he supposed, the most he'd get from her on the topic. Henry gathered her tear-stained tissues and tossed them in a bin and scooted back to his pillow, folding his knees under his chin. She seemed to detach herself from the words she spoke next and he soon knew why. She called it "The era of Her". There was a massacre. A war. Prisoners. Hearts ripped out. Manipulations. Punishments. More hearts. Her mother's death. Then her father's. She had choked for a moment as she explained what happened next - and how.

A curse was cast.

And then ... she looked up at him dully and said a word that shattered his heart. "Graham, also Graham." She said it in an anguished voice and then looked away, deeply ashamed.

"Why?'' he'd almost screamed at her. "You'd become good again! I was here! You were getting good! There was no need for it!"

She shook her head and covered her face in her hands. "I know," she choked out. "I do. I regret that so much. You won't believe it but it was an accident. I meant to squeeze his heart just a little, to teach him a lesson for betraying me. You can do that. A little squeeze causes pain. Then you can stop. But I was blinded by rage. Too blinded. I was so furious and vengeful and I wanted him to suffer so much. It was almost insanity. My anger was so, so strong, that I squeezed and squeezed and squeezed and when I looked down ... Oh my God ... It was too late to ... He was gone, just like that. I was left looking at dust in my hand. Too late to undo it. I stared at the dust and kept on staring and after a few minutes I realised he was... That I'd actually killed him. I could not believe it. I have no excuse, Henry. It was an awful, awful thing. Truly wicked."

She dropped her hands and tear-rimmed eyes looked at him directly. "Like me."

For a long, long beat they stared at each other - mother and son. Assessing. Henry wondered if she was waiting for him to say that she wasn't wicked. Not the Evil Queen. Not _Her_. But she'd just admitted to doing THAT to Graham. It made him want to throw up. He dropped his eyes to his knees. He wasn't sure what she was actually. This was all really hard.

Finally he broke the silence. "Are you going to tell Emma about you? All this?"

Regina sighed. "Do you really think she'd believe me if I did? She didn't believe you and you spent two years trying to convince her with your secret missions and so forth."

His eyebrows lifted in shock.

"You really didn't think I knew about Operation Cobra, and your walkie-talkies and top-secret plans to out me and the curse?"

Henry flushed.

"You are my son, Henry, and there's very little you get up to that escapes my notice," she said with a wry smile. "That's what being a mother is all about."

"She might believe it if _you_ told her. But you're not going to, are you?" Henry's jaw jutted out pugnaciously.

"No. Not like this, at least."

"I could tell her then." Henry eyed her hard, daring her to tell him not to. To warn him off.

"You could," Regina agreed simply. "I won't try to stop you."

He waited and when nothing further was said he realised why not.

"I have no proof," he finally admitted.

"No, dear. You don't."

His face fell. "Oh."

"Which brings me to the key," Regina said. "You now have in your possession the power to completely destroy me. You can use that at any time to expose me. But I'm hoping you won't."

Henry stared at her, blinking. _What?_

"Uh..."

"I'm trusting you now with my life. And I believe you deserve this power after what I've done. It's a way for me to try and show you how sorry I am. I won't stop you from using the key early but if you do so before the curse breaks, then a lot of plans will be ruined and a lot of people will be affected. It's up to you entirely. You can be the 'boy who was right' and prove to everyone, including Emma, you weren't crazy. Or you can be the boy who did what was right." She paused a beat and eyed him. "Now do you see why I said it was a responsibility? A burden?"

Henry stared at her. "Tell me," he said coolly, his heart clenching, "Tell me exactly what it opens and where can I find it?"

Regina gazed at him sadly. "All right," she said in a tired voice. "I'll tell you."

"No," Henry interrupted, narrowing his eyes. "Actually - I want you to show me."

Regina exhaled heavily before nodding. She appeared over arguing, fighting. She looked drained. "Then you'd better come with me."

* * *

**PRESENT TIME**

Henry stood in front of his mother outside the mansion and examined her worried face. He'd had a nightmarish sleep overnight, with dreams of imps and dungeons, hearts being ripped out, and horrible old kings towering over weeping young girls. He'd woken early, his face covered with dried tears and had thrown clothes over his pajamas and shimmied out his window, in case his mother was already awake and in the kitchen.

He couldn't face her yet after last night.

He'd then aimlessly walked and walked and walked. It hadn't helped the chaotic thoughts arrange themselves. Or the cold hard fact that his mother had spent decades of her life as an Evil Queen. _An Evil Queen!_

Suspecting and knowing were two very different things, it turned out. He still wasn't over his reaction. His utter shock. He'd been right all along.

As he stared at her now, he searched her face for signs of the wickedness. Combed every detail of her features for hints of the sickness he had always assumed lay within her from the moment he'd received the book. He stared hard, remembering his words to his mother of not long ago - that he was glad she wasn't Her anymore.

He'd meant it at the time. But he hadn't known all the nightmares then - done by her, and to her. She was right - context mattered. But so did knowledge. He had both now.

Her eyes watched him worriedly. _Was she wondering what he was thinking of her?_ _Why he'd run off?_

He'd seen her arms lift, automatically, seeking a hug the moment she'd seen him, and then the arms dropped, helplessly. As though realising he'd never want to touch her ever again. That she didn't deserve it.

_Did she?_

He'd almost turned to go into the house. To run up to his room. To bury his head under a pillow and try to unsee all that he'd seen and unhear what she'd told him. He'd begged for the truth from her for so long, but it had never once entered his mind to be careful what he wished for. He wasn't even sure anymore what mattered to him - truth or happiness. It seemed it was one or the other now.

As he had crouched in his mother's cellar, and watched her turn his key on her hitherto secret safe behind the cider press, he hadn't fully understood what knowing would mean either. Before he'd known only that the truth might set the town free and give people back their happy endings. But he knew now that it would also curse his mother.

They would come for her. And he might lose her. Would probably lose her. After all, no amount of regret can satisfy an angry mob.

As he stared at the contents of the safe, his fingers rifling through it, he understood how hard she was trying to change that one harsh fact. How much she wanted it all to be right. What he and Emma must mean to her to even attempt this.

So... Henry toyed with the only question that now mattered. It was all he had thought about as she closed the safe with a clunk and gave him back the key. What he had thought, over and over, last night. What he thought now as he looked into searching brown eyes. In the end it came down to a simple equation for him. _Was she still Her?_

Henry mulled over that. From the moment Emma had returned to Storybrooke ... _No wait, before that._ The moment his mom planned to go to Boston to get Emma, in that town meeting when he'd hugged her in relief and others had suddenly done the same ... when she hadn't run off or shouted in horror or anger but seemed confused by the affection and attention. A little lost and a little hopeful. _She definitely hadn't been Her.  
_

Henry Mills nodded and finally stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Regina in a firm hug. He didn't forgive her. Not yet. Maybe never. But he _understood_. And he loved her. Regina Mills, his mother, was many, many things - not all entirely warm and good - but she was trying. And she was no longer _Her_.

He felt trembling arms wrap around him in return and a small stifled sob. He hugged her harder and whispered one word. "_Mom."_


	57. Chapter 57

**THE STAIRCASE**  
**By Red Charcoal**

**CHAPTER 57: THE PROPOSAL  
**

Archie Hopper neatened his desk, sliding his yellow writing pad a little to the left so it lined up with his pen holder. He frowned for a moment then slid the pen holder a millimeter to the right. His first day back at work since his honeymoon had left him feeling oddly empty. It was probably he just missed being at the stables with Matt, he decided, as he moved his coffee cup precisely 4.5mm forward. The handle also now lined up with the edge of the desk. _Perfect_.

There was filing he could be doing, he supposed, before his first client for the day. Actually his only client now - for the whole week. Business had been drying up - a side effect of an increasingly happier Storybrooke. Part of him, the compassionate part, was both thrilled and amazed. It was a phenomenon he'd love to study in depth if he could actually understand what was happening and why. And why _now_.

A smaller, tinier, more human part of him fretted though, because like pretty much everyone else in town, when Mr Gold came calling for the rent, no excuses could be entered into like - "No one was miserable enough to need me this week, but I might have rent money next week?"

He knew, of course, Matt would be fine if he'd decided to hang up his shingle and retire, and spend a life of leisure - and doing a little business - at the ranch with him. Troubled young men were always in supply, it seemed, no matter how the mood of their town was lifting. It was just a fact of life about teenagers. If they weren't angsting about something, they weren't doing adolescence right.

A knock at the door drew him out of his reverie and he glanced up at the clock. _Far too early for his client._

"Come in?'' he said, curiosity filling his voice. "Oh! Now here's a surprise."

The woman walked past him without preamble and settled into the chair opposite.

"I hope you don't mind? No clients expected?"

"Not for a little while, no."

"Good. That's good."

They were silent for a moment before Archie cleared his throat. "Something I can do to help you, Madam Mayor?"

"Funny you should say that, doctor," came a rich amused voice.

His eyebrows lifted. "Should I be afraid?" he asked pleasantly, knowing when her mood was good enough to engage in a little humour.

Her smile widened. "Oh definitely," she confirmed. "Would it be safe to say you're not particularly busy these days?"

"I... uh... how did you know?" He stared at her in astonishment.

"I see how the town is. In a way, I have often felt that as the mayor goes so does the town. Something of a Camelot conceit, isn't it?"

"Um..." Dr Hopper considered that. When mythical King Arthur was ill, his beautiful kingdom of Camelot suffered through poverty, misery and dried-up harvests. When the leader thrived once more, so did his people and everything else in his kingdom. "In a way, I suppose that is rather apt." He gave her an encouraging smile. "So we have you to thank for the outbreak of love and happiness?" he teased.

"I would never presume to be quite so powerful," she drawled. Her eyes danced. Then her face lost its merriment.

They regarded each other for a few minutes and Archie could feel her almost twitching to say whatever else was on her mind. Finally she spoke. "I did suggest Emma come here, you know. See you. She has refused." Her expression dropped. "It's a pity. I obviously speak from experience that you do have a talent for fixing ... broken wings."

Archie gazed at her sympathetically. "You can't force anyone to get help if they don't want it."

"I know. Of course I do." She shook her head and then pinned him with a powerful look. "Anyway, enough about that. Emma's not why I'm here. I have a proposal. And, if you're not too busy anymore, I think you might find it a rather tempting one. And if you don't, then you certainly should."

* * *

An hour later, Archie sat in his chair, frozen, exactly as he had been the moment Regina Mills left his office, her "proposal" ringing in his ears. There was no words for the level of surprise and shock he had experienced, and judging by the amusement on her face as she rose to leave, she knew it too.

"Think about it, dear," she'd said as she'd floated out the room as though she hadn't just dropped the most astonishing bombshell in his lap. "But I'd like to know today."

_Think about it? How could he do anything but?_

A knock abruptly sounded, shattering his thoughts, and he glanced at the clock, startled to discover it was time for his client's appointment. Time flies when the world blows up, it seems.

"Come in," he called and a blonde head popped around the door.

"Emma! Right on time. I'm so glad you came."

The former sheriff looked around the office and then back at him, something akin to fear caking her features. The normally fearless woman looked so terrified he hid a laugh.

He supposed he'd seen a similar look on the mayor's face once, but then it had been covered with anger and a few other raw, primal emotions she generally struggled with. Or, rather, _had_ struggled with, until she'd had her own breakthroughs over their months together.

"I saw Regina leave your office a little while ago," Emma said hesitantly. "You didn't tell her I was coming to see you, did you?"

"No. It's not my place. But I'm curious as to why you don't want her to know? She would be very supportive, I'm sure."

Emma's brows knitted together and she seemed to somehow shrink deeper inside her blue leather jacket before answering. "I'd rather she thinks I'm being a stubborn, obstinate idiot for not seeing you than a ... c-complete failure if this doesn't work."

Archie studied the sad face in front of her. Regina wasn't wrong. Emma certainly had, at the very least, a broken 'wing' or two.

He eyed her kindly. "Two things Emma: it takes huge bravery to confront yourself, expose yourself and your deepest fears and issues. The attempt to heal yourself can never be viewed a failure, even if one particular treatment might not work the first time. And secondly, Regina would never regard you as a failure, no matter what happened. I like to think I know her pretty well now..."

He stopped and trailed off as he considered her visit. "_Maybe not quite as well as I'd thought..._" he mumbled to himself.

"Huh?"

"Nothing," he cleared his throat and sat up straighter. "I know for a fact that Regina Mills would never think less of you if you felt you weren't improving. And certainly she would never think of you as a failure. Besides, I can't tell you how many times she accused me of wasting her time in this very room. Quite loudly, if I recall! But, as we know, it all worked out in the end."

He gave her a reassuring smile. "No pressure. You tell her when you want to."

Emma gave him a small grin. "OK." She glanced around his room again, fingers fidgeting, her knee jumping and twitching anxiously. Suddenly she leapt from her chair and strode to the window and peered out.

"Hey, nice view, Doc."

He stared.

_Birds of a feather._ He lifted his coffee mug and took a sip before answering. _Their poses really were identical. How many times had Regina stood just like that? Right there? Strained. Tense. Hurting. Broken._

"Yes, Emma, it certainly is. So..." He waited for her to turn and lock eyes with his. He put his mug firmly back on the table. "Shall we begin?"

* * *

Loreena Greene glanced up to discover her boss's omnipresent blonde girlfriend leaning roguishly against the door frame. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes but it was a close call.

"She's not here, Miss Swan," the secretary intoned, eyes dropping back to her paperwork, which seemed to be increasing exponentially by the hour. Why her imposing boss insisted on it all being processed now was mystifying. But logic and Mayor Mills rarely went hand in hand, any more than explaining herself did.

"Oh." Sad green puppy-dog eyes would probably be fixed on her now if she looked up, so Loreena made the wise decision not to.

"And no, I don't know where she is," she sighed. "Yet again she did not leave word of her doubtlessly action-packed itinerary."

OK, so she'd let a _hint_ of sarcasm slip out that time but it was deserved. Her in-tray contents were almost taller than her wheelchair at this point.

"So any idea why she's asking everyone to go to the puppet show at the Town Hall tonight? I mean - _what the?_" Emma asked, her words chasing over themselves in her enthusiasm to find out.

_God, she really was like a disturbingly happy golden retriever._ So... _eager_. Loreena side-eyed her.

"I can't say I have any idea as to Madam Mayor's whims whatsoever, Miss Swan. But since you live with her now, why don't you simply ask her?"

"See that's the thing," Emma began, as if winding up for a long explanation. This time Loreena did roll her eyes. "... she was gone before I got up today, and she just left me a cute little note saying she was uh, you know, thinking of me..."

_Oh God. She was really going to do this?_

"I don't think the mayor would appreciate you sharing that information around town, Miss Swan," the secretary interrupted, flashing her a censorious look. "Do you?" She peered at her.

"Well no, not around town, no way. But you're her secretary, right? You already know all this stuff," Emma frowned and waved a hand. "Right?"

"You'd be surprised by how little Mayor Mills and I actually do share, unless you wish to know about her sudden bent for zoning and property transference bylaws."

"Oh? No shit?"

_No shit indeed._ Loreena sighed and decided to give up filing and stared up at the other woman. Blue leather jacket. Tighter than tight jeans. Lace-up boots. _Right_. _Quite the statement outfit. _She shuddered and adjusted the silken frilly tie on her austere cream blouse._ Best to just get the conversation The Girlfriend was dying to have over and done with then._

"Oh, OK," Emma said, and her cheeks pinkened. "Well anyway she also wrote that she was too busy to catch up but all would be revealed tonight at the puppet show, and to make sure to spread the word to everyone to attend. We were already going anyway, with Henry, of course. He's been dying to see it for ages. But this is obviously something, I dunno, huge - right? An unscheduled full town meeting? I told Ruby to help with the, um, info dissemination. But still, I really wanna know _what gives_."

"Mmm," Loreena replied shortly as though giving the speech some thought when in fact she was mentally filing zoning reports chronologically. "Well, Miss Swan, Mayor Mills did not mention any puppet shows - mandatory attendance or otherwise - when she stopped by here first thing. And, as you can see, she is _still_ not here." She spread her hands over her paperwork. "But unfortunately all _this_ is, so I must really be getting back to it. You understand."

She looked pointedly at the former sheriff, who though clueless at times, was not entirely stupid. The other woman bit her lip, nodded and shoved her hands in her jacket. "Ah thanks," she mumbled and walked out.

Satisfied - because it was a conceit to ever be truly pleased - Loreena Greene nodded curtly and returned to work.

* * *

Nothing like a puppet show to bring out full attendance in Storybrooke, Regina Mills thought with a gleam of satisfaction as she peeked at the crowd. Even those who didn't want to attend a political event would be here for the entertainment that followed.

From the side of the stage she could see Emma and Henry in the front row, the former virtually bouncing with excitement, the latter looking about curiously. He hadn't said much since yesterday's hug on the front steps, and she knew he was still processing - and probably would for a while yet. That was fine. She was giving him space but answering questions as he had them.

It was to be expected. But she was still sad to see his natural enthusiasm was now somewhat muted.

Her eye was drawn to a late arrival, a man with a walking stick slowly making his way up the aisle with the town's librarian on his arm. Gold's burning dark eyes locked on hers and he raised an eyebrow. _Bastard was obviously dying of curiosity._

She smiled condescendingly back at him, offering her very best shit-eating smirk to end all smirks. His eyes narrowed and glittered in warning. _Oh yes, he didn't like not knowing all the angles and all the schemes._

The clock struck eight and she walked regally onto the stage in front of a curtain that hid the puppeteers and their act. First things, first.

The crowd stopped its chattering and restlessness when she reached the middle of the stage and stared at them, lifting one arm.

"Citizens of Storybrooke, thank you for coming to this impromptu political announcement on such short notice. I will be brief so you can get back to the reason why most of you are really here," she said and offered a knowing, self-deprecating smile. A small titter went around the crowd.

"It's no secret I went to fetch our former Sheriff from Boston. I'm very pleased to say that she has agreed to stay on in Storybrooke."

A sudden cheer went up, followed by wolf whistles and clapping and Regina waited for the town's appreciation of her girlfriend to die down.

"Yes," she said and suppressed a wide smile, "I couldn't agree more."

She slid her eyes to Emma who looked as shocked as could be. She was flushing red, and even Henry was now giggling at her.

_OK, so I might be paying later for making her the center of attention._

She continued. "I've learned a lot since Emma first left us - but most of all that life is too short. Opportunities, offered twice, should never be overlooked. We all know that's true. We all know that life should be seized where it can be. And many of us are doing that now - everyone will have seen the changes around Storybrooke lately, the optimism, the spring fever. The romance in the air." Her lips twitched.

There were nods around the room and she dared to dart an eye at the sheriff in her sweep across the room. She was almost traffic-light red now with embarrassment. But she seemed transfixed.

"So I have an announcement," Regina began. "I have decided on a change to make the most of life while I have a second chance. I will be stepping down as your mayor, effective immediately. New elections will be run but in the meantime, I have asked Dr Archie Hopper to step in as a temporary custodian of the top office. I hope you will also consider him as a permanent replacement, too, at the election. He also asked me to assure you that he will always make time to see any clients who need him in his former capacity while doing his new job."

The collective gasp was like a mighty gush of wind that swept the room. She could see Archie squeeze his husband's hand. Matt was positively glowing with pride. Emma's mouth was wide open in astonishment. Curiosity lit her eyes. Mary-Margaret and her dull boyfriend looked completely stunned but were nodding in tandem.

But the biggest delight came from when her eyes fixed onto Mr Gold. Oh the questions in those eyes. His nostrils were twitching in displeasure to be so completely out of the loop. _Perhaps he wanted the job himself?_ But no, they both knew he was itching to make travel plans that would be consuming his every waking thought. His girlfriend, however, seemed sincerely delighted by the announcement.

Regina lifted her hand to settle down the crowd. "I'm sure you'll agree Dr Hopper will be a fine leader, whether temporary or permanent - he is fair and just, compassionate and well-organised - and we all know thanks to his other job that he's an excellent listener. He will be ably assisted by the staff on Council to ensure the transition is seamless. I know this is a bit unorthodox for a non-Council member to assume this mantle but it's a temporary measure until the election and I felt sure there would be no objects given the caliber of the man. Wouldn't you agree?"

The crowd began to clap uproariously their approval. Calls for Archie to make a speech began to echo around the large hall and Regina held out an arm towards him. "Dr Hopper? Perhaps you could come up and say a few words to your new constituents?"

Flushing and a little dazed, he walked up to the stage. Regina gave his hand a shake.

"I don't really know what to say," he began. "I think I've been in shock since the mayor proposed it this morning. I know she wants to spend time with ... uh, her family, and we can all understand that, but I also know she will be a very hard act to follow. Regina Mills has been an outstanding mayor and has kept this town running smoothly for decades."

He suddenly paused at that and frowned deeply. "Er, exactly how long have you been mayor? Because ..." he faded out in confusion, turning to her. A small murmuring went around the crowd as everyone also suddenly began to do their maths for the first time.

A chill shot through Regina. _Hell_. _Oh HELL._ She hadn't counted on this. When the curse was at its height and time had stopped, everyone's fogged minds prevented them from even thinking about such pertinent questions. But now ... time was moving and the veil across their minds was at its thinnest. Almost translucent.

"Oh ... I'm not exactly sure," Regina hedged. She licked her lips nervously and her eyes fell on Emma.

The blonde was now casting a concerned glance around the room as though knowing something was seriously wrong, even if she couldn't tell what.

Regina swallowed. She'd never been caught so flat-footed before. She caught a triumphant gleam out of the corner of her eye and noted Gold smiling coldly at her, as if daring her to wiggle out of this one. She would have sneered if the entire room wasn't watching her expectantly. Waiting for their thirty-something mayor to explain how she'd also been their mayor for three decades.

Suddenly Henry jumped to his feet and ran onto the stage. He shouted: "Too long! She's been mayor way too long!'' and gave her a showy, deliberately cutesy hug, the likes of presidential candidates' adoring children after a TV debate.

The crowd laughed and awwwed appropriately and the confused murmurs immediately stopped.

Regina gazed down at her son gratefully and mouthed the word "Thank you''. He squeezed her again, normally this time, and let go, looking away.

Archie shrugged as if he no longer cared about troubling maths problems and seemingly-too-young mayors and wrapped up: "Well I guess that says it all. So let's all sit back and watch the puppet show and if anyone has any ideas or feedback they want to share with me about running Storybrooke, please come and see me later. My door is always open."

The crowd gave him a mighty round of applause. Matt leapt to his size 12 feet and offered a booming roar. The mayor had to suppress her shudder because she'd heard that sound on the battlefield more than once. Grigor certainly had an impressive set of lungs. Even Gold looked faintly unsettled. She looked down, gathered Henry's hand in hers and walked off the stage, with Archie following.

Only Emma still sat frozen, observing her closely, clearly not so easily fobbed off as the residents of Storybrooke. As mother and son took their seats and the lights dimmed, the curtains sliding open on a puppet show, she heard Emma's quiet voice beside her.

"So Regina Mills, spill - just how long _have_ you been Mayor?"


End file.
